


Hunter Heist

by spnsmile



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adult Content, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Porn, Anal Sex, Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Angst and Porn, BAMF Castiel (Supernatural), Badass, Bedroom Sex, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Canon-Typical Violence, Castiel and Dean Winchester Being Idiots, Castiel and Dean Winchester Falling in Love, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Castiel and Dean Winchester Live Together, Castiel and Dean Winchester are Roommates, Castiel and Dean Winchester in Love, Castiel is Protective of Dean Winchester, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dean Winchester is Protective of Castiel, Falling In Love, Fist Fights, French Kissing, Friends to Lovers, Gentle Kissing, Healing, Hot Sex, Idiots in Love, Implied Sexual Content, Jealous Castiel (Supernatural), Jealous Dean Winchester, Kissing, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Neck Kissing, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Prison, Prison Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a Room, Shower Sex, Sleeping Together, Surprise Kissing, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:08:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25275178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spnsmile/pseuds/spnsmile
Summary: Castiel and Dean are caught by the police after a powerful Djinn acting as of the City Council outsmarts them. Arrested and thrown in jail after a short trial, Castiel, unable to use his powers, is still much inclined to protect Dean and he made that clear to all the inmates eyeing his charge. One thing left is to make a final claim and make Dean his.Dean’s kink? Listening to Castiel trash talk—about how he can lift a ton, crush a truck with one single hand. The same blessed hands setting fire on his regions and Dean seems happy. Entirely too happy. Is this an illusion? Is this the Djinn? It seems too real.It’s real.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 11
Kudos: 103
Collections: Supernatural Trope Celebration 2020, The Destiel Fan Survey Favs Collection





	Hunter Heist

**Author's Note:**

> It's here! Written for SPNTC Bang 2020! And of course not going to be here without the help of my friend and partner in crime/ artist verobatto! Go check her art! It's steamy!
> 
> Enjoy! ;) Fair warning~

If anything, Castiel doesn’t like hunting Djinns.

He has close acquaintanceship with said Supernatural beings (technically still married to one) never intimate in a sense of humans— not to mention the amount of grace consumed when dealing with them but Dean insisted hunting them down when the death tolls start rising.

Djinns completely leaving traces all over a small town around 77 Alcove Spring that is almost too bold and asking to be killed. They were just about to leave the Bunker that day when Sam received a message from Eileen asking for assistance and though he says he wasn’t averse on tagging along with the Djinn hunt, he admitted he doesn’t mind pulling a rain check on this one to meet the love of his life. Dean teased him about it at length, Sam being bashful but when Dean saw his brother get all cheesy in front of his mashed potato did have to put his foot down and drag Castiel with him to the impala. Castiel who gives Dean a piece of his mind of how complicated Djinns are, but not really down to leaving Dean on his own found themselves in one of those wooden scented cottages where they lay low while searching out the connection between the victims in the serial case.

They made tabs on the locals and the political history and it's over pizza when Castiel rolls his eyes and takes the lead towards downtown station while Dean skewers the neighborhood looking for potential suspects in town.

When the two meet later that afternoon, both decided that it’s a city council member. Connection at its finest to the victims being family members of the founding council, the old mystery plots. Aiming for the city council mayor, they drafted their plan, well, Castiel will find the Djinn while Dean prepared the iron and silver knives with lambs’ blood. Castiel double-checks the weapons, Dean handing him one for an emergency, as Dean says, if grace drains the bladder, held also on his angel knife.

Imagine their surprise when they arrive at the suspected council member’s house only to be surrounded by the entire sheriff department, arrested for impersonating an FBI, breaking and entering and attempting to kill the city mayor.

Dean shakes his head to Castiel when the angel locked eyes with him, asking if he should use his grace. There were far too many witnesses. Dean glares the Djinn smirking at them. The two were dragged to the city station where they were thrown together in a cell where they grumbled at each other but still sat side by side seeking comfort. Their weapons were taken (Baby was left behind their cottage with the rest of Dean’s personal stuff hidden under the pile of soil under Baby— something Charlie had once come up the protocol of _Blast-End Up-Screwed i_ f they were caught and Baby is taken away, the GPS will let Dean know exactly where Baby would be and that’s the only thing that matters to Dean at most.

Knowing Sam would come around eventually, the two spent two hours bickering whether or not the police are all conspiring together and if they were indeed one big whole family of Djinns since Alcove Spring is an isolated place which Djinns prefer for shelter. One thing for sure, they were had. Probably recognized the first thing they stepped into town.

They waited for any attack that night, wait for any confirmation of conspiring Djinns—to which Castiel will blast the wall if push comes to shove. Only, Dean told him he's being reckless, and not only would it be counterproductive since it would alert the Djinn nation—but in case—it would also alert everyone to their presence and would make tracking the Djinn again difficult. Castiel argues they can call on other hunters but Dean is adamant on solving this once and for all so they wait.

It doesn’t make sense to the angel for Dean to be so stubborn, that or Dean just hates the Djinn’s gut for making a fool out of them. There's a radio broadcast they heard from one passing sheriff being reported to headquarters about how the suspect for killing had been caught.

[ ](https://verobatto-angelxhunter.tumblr.com/post/623675076441784320/this-is-one-of-my-artworks-for)

“No, we’re being accused of murder.” Dean says more to himself, “What a joke.”

“We saved people’s lives.” Castiel sighs in resignation, watching Dean. Apparently, no one cares if you are the hero these days.

Castiel asked if he should just break open the gates since he can do it with one lift of his hand, Dean stares at him with a bright face, color rising from his neck up to the very tips of his ears.

Curious, Castiel leans forward but Dean’s reaction surprised him when the hunter yelped and got on his feet. The frantic look in his face both confuses and sent a signal to Castiel. There's an ache in his chest for being abruptly avoided. Well, Dean does jump at his presence on some occasion, but it's the first time Castiel minded. After all, he and Dean had been thick as hips, or something like that.

"Dean?"

Frowning and ready to growl of why Dean would suddenly _deliberately_ jump away from him, Castiel’s next move is halted when he sees people come in—there were five of them: one the city council member, one woman with her camera out, and three uniformed officers.

“What are you doing?” Dean’s sharp voice surprises the angel who stood beside him this time, glad that Dean isn’t jumping away this time. “Why do you have your camera on?”

Castiel lifts his eyes to follow where Dean is staring and sees the woman in a short skirt smirking menacingly with her pink mobile phone out. The Djinn in disguise nods at the uniformed officer who starts unlocking the gate. Castiel prepares for the launch attack but feels Dean’s hand land on his arm, silently communicating not to do anything.

_Why?_

Turns out the woman is recording live on social media or something to that effect. Castiel glares at the implication of whatever it is and sets his jaw tight when the officers clamp handcuff on Dean and himself. Except Castiel feels his power drain out the moment his own clicked shut. He sways to Dean who raises elbows to catch him.

“Cas? What the hell—?”

Castiel leans on Dean, stares in shock at the cuffs, and right there sees Enochian writings on the sides. He looks up at Dean in mirrored alarm then they both glare at the Djinn who tells them they’re both fucked up in the correctional and that he will advise the warden not to remove the angel cuffs for security reasons. Pulling strings with no one to care for a trial, Dean Winchester and his accomplice Jimmy Novak (Castiel tells them he’s dead) are identified as felons, suspects of the Alcove killings (Castiel insists it’s the Djinn) and are sentenced for Federal Charges and serve 50 years in the Leavensing Correctional Facility, a maximum-security prison in Kansas. All happened in a week with no sign of Sam.

That’s how Castiel and Dean ended up packed in a yellow bus escorted by the marshal and carted to a strip search house Dean described to Castiel as one of those free-touches where a very angry officer would just want to see inside to see if you’re not a carrier.

“Carrier of what?” Castiel grumbles at the very thought of someone touching Dean in such a private manner. They were crammed together on the bus; both their wrists cuffed their ankles shackled. Dean tells him not to worry but Castiel would not be that worried if he has access to most of his powers. He can at least shake the bus, but then what? There are ten more prisoners with them, all large and wide-eyed men looking stricken at their bleak future. Castiel only worries for Dean because despite the hunter’s cover-up of smirks and half angry retorts of how fuck they are, once or twice he would catch Dean staring nervously at him and his lips would tremble.

Dean got ahead of the stripping search, leaving Castiel staring curiously at the wall since it was going to be his first time inside a human prison wall. There’s a distance between him and the other prisoners who all appear chalk white and uncertain. When it was his turn, it turned out to be not as unpleasant as he thought, all he had to do was shut the senses of his vessel. It all clinical to Castiel after that so when he comes out to meet Dean back in their bus now wearing the same white sleeved shirt underneath a gray prison, he tells him the coughing wasn’t necessary nor the checking of his rectum because he was essentially ‘clean’ if that’s what the strip officer was referring to.

Dean smiles warmly at him but Castiel can see fear flicker behind his eyes, something that concerns him greatly so while they wait for the other prisoners and the warden to give them instructions, he grabs hold of Dean’s hands, surprising the hunter.

“Dean,” he says, eyeing the man square in the eyes. “What’s the matter?”

Dean stares back with that wall, that rigidness Castiel usually sees as the man’s initial defense during a confrontation. But Castiel knows this man, his charge, the human he fell for and knows it’s all a façade. He grips Dean’s hand firmly even if it was tugging away. He needs to know else he will wreak havoc on this bus until the fear in the man’s eyes disappear and gets replaced by Castiel’s reflection of outmost annoyance like he usually throws. Anything for Dean.

After a moment, the wall crumbles and Dean sinks a little lower on the sear they share together. Castiel waits patiently, not worrying about his hand still linked to Dean.

“I dunno, Cas… I think… I think we’re both really fucked.”

“You said that many times already.” Castiel says, and he won’t ever get tired of pointing out how humans tend to worry over the same thing in a similar fashion when in the end they only go around a not really find answers, “I know.”

“No, you don’t know, Cas. Have you ever been in prison?”

Castiel’s dominant eyebrow, the one he explicitly uses to intimidate, rises. He sees Dean swallow. It’s something Castiel takes pleasure from whenever he and Dean would find this particular moment, this bicker-impasse when the angel is sure to prove himself correct at anything Dean just threw at him. He just enjoys seeing Dean fumble because of his effect sometimes. It’s a thing between them.

“Twice, I believe. Both heaven and hell. This is actually the first time I’m going to experience human prison.”

“Well, good for you.” Dean sighs, pulling his head back, the back of his head on the chair making a thumping sound and making Castiel gasp at the solid sound he sure it must’ve hurt. But Dean barely says anything about physical pain. His face is already grim, his green eyes flickering darkly and nothing else can make Castiel feel apprehensive.

“Cas, correctional like this? Maximum security prisons? Human monsters are kept there, Cas. And we’re joining them.”

Castiel silently nods. As an angel, it was his job to watch over humanity before Dean was born and he watched what kind of monsters were made out of a person’s particular environment, whether it’s a necessity, whether they were corrupted or whether it was gained and get out of hand out of curiosity. One thing was for sure, some humans have fallen so low to the category of monsters that some of his brothers—those who are also in charge of others have lost interest when their charges have fallen to their demons.

It was different for Castiel when Dean came around. Having watched him from some time, from birth to adulthood, the hardships he had to overcome, sometimes his soul would dim, sometimes it would be unrecognizable. Not a word of prayer came out from the lips of Dean Winchester so Castiel was never able to respond. How could he? Dean barely knows his name. His existence and his belief were ever steadfast on his father alone. And John Winchester did not make it easy. He made it hard, but Dean was good. So, kind. All because of one factor that changed his life forever— his father shoving a helpless Sam on his arm— how a loving John Winchester trusted him to protect his brother, how Dean developed his own sense of self-preservation while taking care of his brother, Sam because Sam needed him. Sam, who was always relying on him, and Dean had acquired demons of his own, demons he kept battling on daily, the man who could have turned from bad to worse a long time ago, ended up the best human being Castiel had ever known.

Because Dean is pure like that. His demons are there, he exists with them, but Dean, the light of Dean’s heart will always win, Castiel believes that. That’s why he has faith in Dean Winchester.

That faith he wants the hunter to feel when he squeezed their hands. They lock eyes. Castiel encourages Dean to speak his mind by drawing closer to him, their shoulders pressing close, faces inches from each other.

“Tell me what else bothers you? Human monsters? I’ll protect you from them, that’s my job.” Castiel knows they don’t have their weapons, but at least he still has something he can use if it is to protect Dean.

“I told you don’t worry about me, it’s you I’m worried about.”

[ ](https://verobatto-angelxhunter.tumblr.com/post/623675076441784320/this-is-one-of-my-artworks-for)

Dean looks straight in Castiel’s soul, he feels his entire being burn. Dean always had that effect. Dean with his loving intense green eyes, Dean with his too bright soul all too much for Castiel to handle. And all for Castiel because he has claimed Dean.

“Why are you worrying about me?” Castiel frowns, trying as much as he can to catch the changing flicker behind Dean’s eyes, trying to decipher, one of the most difficult puzzles when Dean means to when sometimes he can just be an open book—except without any letters to decipher.

Dean looks hesitant for a moment, his eyes checking around if anyone was listening before he zeroes into Castiel with a sigh.

“Okay, listen up, buddy. This is gonna be some education for you, kay’? I’m sure they didn’t do this in heaven prison… I’m not sure about hell, but I’ve been there… well, you were kept in the level one prisons you said yourself and your captors barely even approached you—” they both smile. They both know Castiel’s infamous reputation from both sides—the leader of the host of angels who lay siege upon hell to rescue the Righteous Man, the same angel who played the King of Hell in his hands when he became the acting god, the _angel_ who destroyed Heaven— _so much_ label for one angel who only did it all for one human. Not adding the fact that they labeled him as Dean Winchester’s angel and no one fucks around the Winchesters.

No wonder the demons feared to approach him.

Dean’s smile vanishes when someone clambers on the bus and sits four chairs behind them. Castiel squeezes Dean’s hand again, egging him to continue.

“Educate me then.” Cas whispers. Dean flushes much to his surprise but the grim look never leaves his face.

“People in maximum security are those sentenced beyond 30 or forty years in prison above, Cas… most of them they’ve been imprisoned for many years and … you know what they do to new inmates? They fuck them.”

“Because we are fucked.” Castiel repeats, Dean already said the same thing.

“Not that _fuck fuck…_ I mean raped.”

Castiel only blinks. Dean’s eyes don’t meet his but the hunter grasped his hands back so tight the pressure tells Castiel how much Dean is straining with the idea

“And you’re in Enochian cuff— _that’s fuck. That Djinn wants you to be fucked._ If I come out of here… he’s more than dead. I sometimes wish this was a fantasy world made by the Djinn, Cas, but the longer the episode stays the same every time I wake up with you in handcuffs, I slowly realize this isn’t some illusion. Because Djinn illusions want you calm and relax, never leaving the dream. I’ve been wanting to wake up from the beginning but I can’t risk murdering myself without actually _killing_ myself… this all feels so real. And if that’s the truth, I don’t want em to rape you, Cas… anything but you…” Dean suddenly tugs his hand close to his forehead, pressing Castiel’s fingers to his lips, eyes shut, “If they try to hurt you there, I swear, I’m gonna fucking kill those monsters.”

“Calm down…”

“I’m going to gut them they’re not touching you,”

“Dean…”

“They can do whatever they want with me, but they’re never touching you…”

Blue eyes flash dangerously and before Castiel can stop himself, he grabs on Dean’s collar and yanks him close so their forehead and noses touch, their lips breathing on each other. Castiel is seriously pissed. The idea of anyone taking Dean… this concept of ‘rape’ is so repulsive he wants to kick the metal body of the bus to drag Dean away if he could. Instead, he focuses on Dean’s green eyes, willing himself to calm down despite the ragged breath of his friend, his charge, his Dean.

“No one is raping you,” he tells Dean and if his eyes are glowing with power, Dean must’ve felt rather than see because he calms down. Dean Winchester sighs heavily, Castiel letting go of Dean’s collar but letting his hand slide down Dean’s chest, listening to his heartbeat which was still erratic. Going more erratic. He squints at Dean.

“I will protect you.”

What Castiel and Dean did not expect after an hour ride to the facility found probably in the middle of nowhere was the fact that they would be separated immediately. The moment they enter the fenced grounds with long connected walls and flat roof surfaces, wardens meet them and immediately hook an arm over to Castiel.

Castiel made a violent move to come after Dean when his friend was pulled away, but one shake of warning from Dean’s head has him stopping. Heart beating frantically, Castiel nods, deadpan. But deep inside he wants to dissect whoever had the initiative to take Dean from his sight. Limb to limb.

He lands in another room, a clinic with white walls, stretched blue bed, the nurse on the station who told him to sit down in front of her while she pulls out a test kit. Castiel only squints. He doesn’t ask. The nurse gives him an odd look, shrugging before injecting him. At least for a vessel, Castiel can still bleed. He did not heal himself from the puncture. Actually, wondered if he should let it heal on its own. His thoughts jump to Dean if they are doing the same thing to him because Dean hates needles. Jaw clenching, he waited in silence until he was dismissed to the other door—a metal door exit— not missing out the sigh of the nurse behind him before the door closed.

_‘Shame. What a handsome psycho.’_

He searches for Dean at once, sees him already sitting in one of those lines with the other prisoners still heavily guarded. Their eyes connect, Dean nods at him signaling that he is okay. He looks unharmed. Castiel is wary of Dean’s prayers and if Dean prayed anywhere between the moment they were not together he would have kicked the metal door open even if he couldn’t open it on the first try.

It seems pointless to squeeze himself beside Dean when there was no space unless he sits on Dean’s lap. But Dean would complain so Castiel sits his butt on the last empty chair, closing his eyes and listening to the thrumming of Dean’s familiar heartbeat. He was also still left pondering why the human who has been saving the world for far too many times at the expense of his own life is in here being punished by human law? The drive to grab Dean’s shoulder and fly out of this hell seizes him again and he ends up leaning on his knees with both hands clasped together. The line moved too slow. He wants to sit with Dean.

Castiel stares at number HC-5024 given to him when he finally enters another private room. The officer with the clipboard asks him for his personal information which Castiel has mastered—given his acquired skills from the Winchester brothers and the fact that as soon as he was able to feel remorse for Jimmy Novak’s demise, he searched for his vessel’s background. He did not give any details that would bother any of the Novak family—Castiel was not going to put them in any danger whatsoever. Instead, he gave Sam’s fake name for a family visitor, no particular medical needs and that was it. He was dismissed.

He meets Dean again, this time he can see Dean is now pale with perspiration on his forehead. Castiel wishes he could heal Dean, better yet keep him away from this confinement that seems like it’s building its toll on the hunter. They were made to wait again for other prisoners at what looked like a cafeteria with no actual food to serve except the cold stew and beans. Castiel took two trays over to Dean’ shoving them all in Dean’s direction but the hunter only stared at the plates glumly.

“Dean, you have to eat.” Castiel says, “I don’t like how your skin is so pale… please, you have to eat some nourishment.”

“I don’t have to keep looking pretty, Cas.” Dean smiles slightly, eyes sharp, “Those guys are on us already.”

“What?” Castiel glances around and sure enough saw four or five heads of the inmates glancing in their direction. Castiel frowns at them and then to Dean who’s giving back the same arrogant, challenging look as if daring anyone to come near him. And the way Dean is using everything in his arsenal to look intimidating gave Castiel an idea of the kind of danger they are going to be exposed in once the wardens are finished with them and they are left alone to handle themselves.

He turns back to Dean. “What do you mean—they will attack you?”

“ _Us_ , Mr Devastatingly Handsome.” Dean rounds his green eyes grimly, “They’re trying to spot the easy mark so don’t look so dorky right now. Kill em with the eyes.”

“Why, what’s going to happen?”

“Those guys are looking at us like we’re meat.”

“We are,” Castiel affirms, understanding the analogy.

“Let’s not make it easy, I’m the hunter here, I’m sending a message I will own their ass.”

Castiel blinks. “Is that what you were doing?”

Dean sighs, “I’m not going to own their ass, just to scare them away.”

“Then what’s the point of doing it? I can go over there and talk to them to not bother us in the future.”

Green eyes studied him for a few seconds before Dean is chuckling. Castiel is surprised by how quickly the heavy atmosphere is lifted from his friend. Dean’s eyes dance like a burst of starlight heavily shadowed by the upcoming storm. Castiel closes his lips in a thin line. He would do anything to keep Dean protected, even if it meant exposing himself. He looks down his wrist and wonders if the Djinn would stay true to its threat. How can he protect Dean without his grace? His face crumples.

Like Dean can read his thoughts, the hunter nudged the tray from his side so the movement catches the other tray in his Castiel’s hands. The angel looks up at the way Dean's features turn very serious. There's a brief hesitation in his eyes until it swirls to something more determined like Dean has weighted his options and finally decided the best course of action. Or words.

“Cas, no matter what happens, don’t lose it, okay?” Castiel frowns. Dean leans closer. “I mean… ah well, but just don’t show too much power? Kay? And no blasting of walls yet no matter what happens. We don’t want to run out there in the wild and be like Shawshank Redemption part 2. We just gotta lie low for a while and let the fuckers be.”

“I am not doing that,” Castiel says conversationally, earning him total attention from the distracted hunter. “I am going to protect you.”

“Cas—” but Dean says it without any hint of warning or anger. It was the same whisper, the same magnitude in Dean’s voice whenever he says the angel’s name in a reverend manner. “You’re an idiot. Don’t expose yourself, okay? I’ll handle it.”

Castiel’s lips fall into a thin line but before he can speak again, another inmate sits beside Dean. The hunter’s glare is terrible, Castiel would never want to be subjected to such a stare. Copying Dean, however, he also glares at the inmate who was a little shorter than him but looked aged with experience. He does not have too much hair.

“Hey, stop the beam lights, pretty boys.” He begins and it’s enough to get Dean’s killing atmosphere reign. Grabbing a fork, Dean grapples it until his knuckles are white, quite shocking the angel, to be honest.

“I don’t respond well to anyone who calls me pretty,” Dean says through gritted teeth. The man surveys Dean warily, eyes on the fork covered by Dean’s palm.

“Jesus, relax, kid. Shows how much prison experience you have. But then I guess, you won’t be acting so tough if you don’t know the trade. Mario, by the way.

“No one’s gonna be traded here, getaway before I forget why I’m in prison for, Luigi’s not here to be fucked.”

There’s hushed silence. Castiel is sure all the tables of the inmates are listening in, or watching them. The man beside Dean sighs and inches a little away.

“I’m just saying, the more you show how hardcore you are, the more the interest in your direction flies. And you’re not doing your friend a favor here, he looks like he doesn’t know crap about the world.”

“I know the world more than you ever know,” Castiel says in his defense.

“Don’t bother us,” Dean says, eyes murdering every inch of the intruder in their space. Mario doesn’t look too convinced. He gives Dean a calculating look, and then Castiel’s before he darts his eyes back to Dean, no longer paying attention to the fork.

“If you were as dangerous as you’re making out to be, you’ve already stabbed me in the eyes. This place isn’t heaven, kid, but it’s gonna be hell for you if you don’t stop acting up. Just two weeks ago we were on lockdown because of prison riots from different houses. You’d be happy to know someone already wants you in House C. You’re already popular with the guys, you don’t listen to me now they’re going to eat you the first step the wardens are off your back.”

Dean smiles, the last thing Castiel expected, and it’s the most intense. Green eyes wander to all the eyes and ears listening in the conversation, runs his eyes to the wardens with back on them, then Dean leans closer to Mario, right hand clamping at the back of the man’s neck with the fork now sliding down the man’s throat—too surprised to move—too slow to realize how Dean could have killed him in one stroke—Mario’s eyes widen.

“I don’t give fuck who your bosses are out there, I don’t fucking give a damn about your house rules about who gets to protect us here and fuck me in the back. You leave us alone, you will keep your life, do you understand?”

Mario heeds with a swallow. Dean throws him away with a snarky look over the looming faces of the inmates staring at their table. Castiel silently stares at the too, carefully, remembering the faces of the dangerous mob who will be threatening Dean’s life once the go signal lifts. And Castiel can only look at Dean with determination to only protect.

Castiel won’t die here, Dean can. He won’t let that happen.

“Dean.” He says, pulling Dean back from the tensed atmosphere by pulling his wrists gently. “Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to make some allies…”

Dean’s attention snaps back to him. “What?”

“All I’m saying is maybe they’re not so… you know really into this rape thing?”

“Cas, weren’t you listening? They want me.” Dean hisses, “the moment we get exposed to the lot of them in the dining area, we’re screwed, that’s why plan A, we’re not gonna do anything stupid like going alone in one place, there’s always gotta be a back watching us and I’m calling dibs on your back. God, I hope our bunks are close, we’re both new inmates so I guess they would keep us somewhere close by.”

“And then what?” Castiel asks, both brows lifted, “we’re always going to act tough when one of them approaches us?”

“That’s the idea.” Dean frowns, side eying the warden who just closed the door behind him after the last prisoner had come out. “We’re gonna be given assigned bunkers. I hope we’re closed by, I really wanna protect you, Cas.”

It’s with this gesture that Castiel realizes Dean’s instinct is getting the best of him. He ponders this over as they were all told to stand up and fall in line again. Dean is being overly protective like how he has been with Sam. Dean is showing his gentle side by being callous because he’d rather be thinking of protecting others rather than protecting himself. That line of thinking has Castiel until when Dean is planning to carry the burden by himself? Because every time he watches Dean take things on his shoulder alone, it always backfires badly for him with either the man making a stupid deal or dying.

Teeth clenched, steps inside the metal door promising devastation to anyone who would hurt Dean. Castiel _is the angel._ Cuffed or not.

They were ushered inside a large walled cell with two-level floors running from one end to another until a joint—a triangular facility only made of cells. The round tables in the middle of a lounge area have chess pieces and checkerboards on them. Castiel squints.

So, this is a human prison?

The number of guards stood by the corner along the upper floor and ground floor. They were led up the metal grid stairs to a waiting officer at the second landing. The man, dark eyes, bushing beard raises an eyebrow at him and Dean, the only two inmates brought in House C from the dozens of prisoners that came that day. So, HC stands for House C… and the number?

It was their room number and Dean had the same. They were bunked together. Castiel steps inside the empty cell with Dean following him after. The moment their door locks, Castiel and Dean exchange looks. Dean’s eyes drop to the soft mattress, groans somewhere between exhaustion and relief, then slumps on it on his back with a grunt, his chest heaving in waves.

Castiel stared at him for a few moments before scanning their room. It was a small compartment with too little walking grounds. Two steps separate the two-mattress attached to the wall on metal legs. There’s a toilet and sink five steps from where he stands between the wall and the metal door. The white wall is at least looking new like they just constructed the building, no writings on the wall, or any vandalism, not even blood trails on the wall. There’s a small window twice the size of the eyes-slot by their metal door but apart from that, there was nothing to see.

Castiel squints at the small window where his arms won’t seem to fit. Castiel turns back to Dean who was still breathing heavily on his bed.

“Thank god we’re bunking together, Cas.” He closes his eyes, worry etched on his handsome face. Castiel walks to his friend, just staring at Dean.

“You should not worry so much, Dean. If what I heard is true—I have been listening around— this maximum facility does not have much interaction with the inmates. Apparently, the lockdown weeks ago caused heavy security to be implemented.”

“I thought I was gonna have a heart attack when I heard the alarm.” Dean sighs heavily, Castiel pats him to scoot over and sits at the edge of his flat bedding. “I mean, I thought it must be those agents after me and Sam’s back… you know they have profiled us and everything. I thought the FBI would hear and they’d be pulling strings till I’m back in their ground zero.”

Castiel stiffens. He remembers those weeks with Sam and Dean went from the Bunker. Something cold rippled inside his chest. He curls his finger on the hem of Dean’s shirt.

“I don’t want to.” He begins, a lump forming in his throat.

Dean eyes him. “What’s that, Cas?”

“I don’t want you taken,” Castiel says in all earnest, closing his fingers on Dean’s shirt. “I… don’t want you away from me again…”

Dean blinks at him. Castiel blinks back. It’s all strange how their exchange is warm and comfortable despite being in the depths of a prison camp. But Dean’s features harden after a second and the man sighs.

“What is it, Dean?”

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Castiel gapes. Dean doesn’t want him to be… here?

“Why?”

Dean sits up, their noses almost colliding but Castiel sits still.

“Prison ain’t no place for my angel.”

“Okay.” Castiel tasted his lips carefully, ears ringing from Dean’s possessive term that he carefully wraps the endearment in his heart. He is Dean’s angel. _Was there ever any doubt_? “If I am your angel, where else d’you expect me to be?”

Dean shrugs. “You know… out there… not in this dirty, smelly hole.”

“I’ve done that, I’m not good with it.” The angel snaps, enduring an eye roll, “I don’t like I’ll stay here with you, I don’t care. Do you really think I’d rather be outside while you’re in here? No.”

“Cas…”

_“No.”_

Dean presses his lips and leans with elbows landing on his knees, grumbling something about stubborn angels. Castiel squints at the hunter in question. Dean looks oddly comfortable in those gray shirts and white sleeves.

“But whatever happens here, don’t do anything stupid, okay, Cas?”

Roll of eyes is impossible to hold now.

“I’m serious, Cas,” Dean says, head inches from Castiel, “for all I know, you’re also on the radar of the Men of Letters, the FBI too, I’m sure… I don’t want anyone getting any ideas about getting a free angel and take you from me. Humans love doing that, taking special things from others.”

Castiel starts at Dean, lingering gaze, more so on Dean’s moving lips.

It calmed him more than Castiel expected. Of Dean thinking of him… Dean thinks he is special. Should he tell Dean that he is special for him too? Because let the world crumble, he will stay with Dean. Wherever Dean goes, he always follows.

Dean is with him in this tiny whole, this cubicle of human punishment and yet strangely, it made him feel it’s where he belongs. With Dean.

He watches Dean like he always does. He can see those lips quiver a little from some unknown human tendency to worry and Dean Winchester doesn’t just worry. He fully, _without control_ , feels everything his mindsets itself unto, making any human emotions triple to that effect. Like it wasn’t bad enough to concern himself with the angel. Dean is actually punishing himself this way, shouldering everything again. Because Dean feels everything more acutely than anyone Cas has ever known.

Without really thinking about it, Castiel reaches his cuffed hand over Dean’s left cheek. The jangling sounds made no difference, he doesn’t feel their weight. The weight is Dean’s heavy eyes, the weight is when he touched Dean’s forlorn expression.

Dean fixes him a questioning stare, green eyes trailing to Castiel’s cuffed hand. Dean fixes the cuff a dark look before he’s reaching out and holding both Cas’ hands on his own, looking very solemn.

“Not supposed to be shackled either.” He squeezes Castiel’s hand, builds pressure there before staring up, eyes sad. Dean’s hand is so warm. “Aren’t they painful?”

Castiel shakes his head. “No.”

“Hope I could remove this, Cas… just to make you comfortable.”

“I don’t want you to worry too much about it. Sam will get us out.”

A small smile presses from Dean’s lips, relieving Castiel more than anything. He was surprised when Dean suddenly pulled him to sit on the edge of the bed, the smile lingering on his lips. In this little hole, in their own space, Castiel found comfort. And so, did Dean. The shadows in his eyes disappeared leaving only the smile reaching his eyes guiltily.

“Sorry to say this, Cas. But I’m glad you’re my bunkie… you could have escaped. You know and I won’t blame you for it. You could have left me there when the sheriffs barged in—”

“I will go with you. I will always go with you.” he casts Dean a steady look. He would never leave Dean there, no. “I won’t let them take you alone. Just thinking that you will be in their hands… these people who can keep you in another facility I could never find… like those weeks you were gone. You and Sam… I’ll never let that happen again.”

“You softy,” Dean says but his eyes are bright, brighter than before and there’s a tiny tinge of color on Dean’s face Castiel loves to see whenever they fall in this familiar space where their profound bond just makes him smile both inside and out— vibrating all over his vessel’s vein, connecting and is connected.

He and Dean are profoundly connected.

Butterflies flutter in his stomach, Castiel can’t help looking down Dean’s lips. Longingly. He flickers his eyes up and sees Dean doing the same. They just sit there for a while with eyes on each other’s lips but no one is really doing anything about it. Castiel is positive it’s the profound bond. He is sure Dean is too in sync with him so they both want the same thing. But their control is beyond measure they really just sat there not doing anything.

“Sam will find us.” Castiel croaks when after so much longer, he feels the pressure by his soft white pants. The gray top covers his thighs so he doesn’t look down. Castiel knows what this is called, but refuses to call on it. And he’s sure Dean feels it too, but unlike him, Dean is easily overcome. He sees Dean swallow, sees Dean try to squirm it down, his green eyes a little dilated. This is their profound bond, so much intimacy of their souls. Castiel smiles, mesmerized by Dean in every different way.

Quietly, he puts a cuffed palm on Dean’s leg, feeling the vibration when Dean jumped in surprise.

“You should rest. It’s not even sunset outside but I can hear the entire building shutting down everything. This is their curfew.”

“I don’t think I can sleep.” Dean sighs, eyes darting from Castiel’s face to the angel’s hand on his thigh. “I… I need to adjust… you know when me and Sam when we were captured, took me weeks before I can sleep. Had to exhaust myself before I my body adjusted to the routine. I barely saw Sam… they put us in this isolation to mentally torture us, you see? And I know what they were doing and I…”

Dean’s voice trails, the look on his face stricken. Castiel reaches up again, this time the tip of his forefinger and thumb stroking Dean’s chin. Castiel has been meaning to do that, been itching to do that to Dean but only find this space too comfortable. He knows Dean wouldn’t get angry. He can feel Dean getting drawn closer to his vessel, to his touches. Every touch, every movement of his cuffed hand, Dean’s eyes follow like he wants something from Cas the angel cannot quite decipher clearly.

He has a notion, but he doesn’t want to take advantage of Dean. It’s something that’s been going on for them for years but because of how fast-paced they live their lives, it’s always put on the back burner, always set aside in order to save the world.

But in this tiny space, in this little bunk cell, Castiel can feel Dean’s longing with much intensity than before. Like he wants nothing but to slam his body on Castiel, rob him of his warmth. Because this is Dean starved for affection. This is Dean’s afraid. Dean wants his touches but at the same time too afraid to touch. So Castiel reaches out, little by little to comfort him. He would give anything for Dean, but as long as he sees hesitance behind the green eyes, he would not take so much from Dean. Would only give what is asked.

He pulls Dean’s chin, watching the eyes black of his eyes dilate. Honestly, Castiel enjoys seeing Dean at his mercy like this but he would never harm Dean. Not when his friend is already very vigilant about this ‘rape’ thing. It’s one of those things that struck Castiel about this whole thing.

That Dean thinks he will get raped. His mind slowly accepted it. Castiel didn’t want that so he promised he would not do anything to Dean even when the opportunity opens. They have been dancing around each other for a long time but it will not happen here. He will protect Dean even from himself.

“Well, you’re not alone now. And I promise not to leave you… trust me, Dean. I won’t let anyone take you from me again.”

Dean blushes. Castiel can only stare.

Because Dean is so in tune with his emotions, unbidden by any self-loath Castiel always regrets to see. Dean here, in this cell, in their little bunk is…

Castiel’s throat dries.

 _Control…_ he rubs a thumb on the corner of Dean’s lips, finding satisfaction when Dean leans on his touch.

“Cas…” Dean sighs, eyes fluttering close, making Castiel grit his teeth. But he doesn’t pull. He just watches Dean mellow out, look so subdue, no wonder the humans in this prison would want him. Dean is very beautiful. Castiel relishes the fact he can see Dean’s soul that keeps drawing him in. Castiel stays on his ground.

“You go ahead and sleep now, Dean.”

“I’ll have nightmares,” Dean complains. He shuts his eyes, handsome face contorting painfully. Castiel doesn’t like that. Doesn’t like anything that hurts Dean.

“Then sleep on my lap,” Castiel says squarely. The green eyes shot open, wide, and surprised. Castiel can hear Dean’s erratic heartbeat wanting to punch out of his chest. He returns the gaze easily with a tilt of his head.

“I want you to take proper sleep for what’s to come tomorrow. I want you rested, Dean. I don’t want you to stress on what’s to come, I’m here for that.”

Castiel is surprised by the flash of smile—of Dean still being himself comforted beyond words. It’s here that the angel can see how much Dean trusts him. He thinks his heart must’ve slipped away from his vessel straight on Dean’s hand with that smiling face.

“So, I got a handcuffed angel guarding me now? How ironic is that?” But Dean shifts in position. Castiel too, who leans his back on the cold white wall and waits for Dean to lean backwards until his head slowly lays on Castiel’s lap.

An awkward silence follows as the two lock eyes at each other. Dean shifts his head and Castiel suddenly becomes hyper-aware of how close Dean’s soft hair is within his reach. He takes a moment, then gets stuck at the idea of Dean’s face also so close to his reach. He swallows hard. Dean is too close.

Dean shifts with difficulty in finding a good position and Castiel lets him move clumsily about. The hunter crosses his arms first, shuts his eyes, and maintains a perfectly still position like a robot. Castiel just watches him with a deadpan expression. Dean opens his eyes and their eyes meet. Then Dean is shifting his head facing the wall, grunts about something in dissatisfaction then turns his head towards Castiel’s vessel.

It took three seconds before Dean jumped in surprise, also surprising Castiel in the process. How humans can toss about when they claim to want to rest and yet acting restless will never cease to amaze him.

“This is not working—” Dean begins, in that act of sitting up with his face very red. Castiel holds him down by the shoulder with a stony expression. Dean freezes exactly when the lights are turned off inside their cell. Bright lights from outside the slot on the door and that’s it for the day.

“Rest now, Dean,” Castiel says quietly. He presses Dean back on his lap who doesn’t complain and lays back down, eyes on Castiel. Castiel closes his eyes this time, looking pretty annoyed because he wants to run his fingers on Dean’s hair but can’t do it. The handcuffs are obstinately getting on the way.

“How are the wrists?”

“Fine.” Castiel mutters, eyes shut.

“You look uncomfortable. You sure you don’t want me up?”

“Just sleep, Dean.” Castiel opens his eyes, finds Dean already staring at him, and decides it’s much better to just stare at Dean back so he would stop looking so worried. “I’m fine, I want you to rest… unless I am making you uncomfortable?”

“No, no…” Dean lets go of the remaining strength training him from really lying down. Silence falls between them again, Castiel can see Dean looking at him in the dark.

“Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?”

“You…” Dean says slowly, his voice trailing away again… Castiel sighs, satisfying himself with Dean’s heartbeat.

“Yes, Dean. Me” there’s a pause. “Are you still worried?”

“Drowning.”

That worried Castiel. He moves a finger to touch Dean’s cheek out of instinct. Dean didn’t jump or anything, but his body did tense.

“Are you worried about tomorrow?”

“ _Tomorrow is just another damn day,”_ Dean quivers a smile, having successfully applied another one of his favorite quotes.

“What will we do if they start attacking us, Dean?” Castiel voices his concern.

“We’ll throw tables in their faces.” The hunter replies, “But they’re not gonna make us agree on anything here.” Dean’s eyes found him and there’s hidden meaning right there, “We’re not going to be their bitch, okay?”

Castiel nods. “Okay.”

Dean shifts his head closer to Castiel’s stomach which makes him tense a little. But Dean has stopped moving, has fallen asleep. Castiel listens to his even breathing. He keeps his eyes on Dean for some time, enjoys seeing how his pupils stop moving under the closed lids.

In the dark, he can see Dean. He will always see Dean. Castiel begins counting Dean’s freckles. A habit he would never tire, at the same time taking the privilege of being so close to his human.

He watches over Dean.

Castiel jerks in attention at the banging sound coming from the outside that permits the entire building as guards from different directions and different levels begin a routine banging on the door.

“Winchester! Novak! You got thirty minutes to shower.”

Dean sits up like he’s hit with lightning. He exchanges a look with Castiel, the green of his eyes still looking glassy from a very long nap. Dean barely had a nightmare.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Ahh…Cas… I have a feeling we’re not in Kansas, anymore.” Dean grins but there’s visible tightness on his cheeks when he slips out of bed. Castiel follows him and they both stand, Dean stretching as the metal doors get unlocked.

“They told us to take a shower for thirty minutes.”

“Sounds long enough, I can smell my stink. You too.”

“I don’t stink.” Castiel gazes down his vessel with a frown, then remembers he is limited in using his grace. Something occurs to him. “I don’t do a shower. The last time I did—"

“Yeah, yeah you were Steve.” Dean laughs, running his fingers on his messy head. They walked out the door together, finally seeing daylight from the tall open ceiling projecting like a balcony. Other inmates have begun moving around as well, on their designated shower areas which weren't exactly many. Castiel follows Dean to where the signs show them _Shower Room_ where inmates are flocking left and right, others who are already finished eyes him and Dean with their gaunt faces looking shocked, others not hiding their utter perplexity at him and Dean.

“Christ,” Dean mutters under his breath just in front of Castiel.

“What’s the matter, Dean?”

“Fuck, Cas, these guys are looking at us like we’re meat stew.”

Castiel quirks his eyebrows. “Are they cannibals?”

Dean glares back at him. “All right, Cas, you ready for your closeup?”

“What closeup?”

Castiel soon finds out it means surrendering his clothing. The wardens do not let them crowd in the shower much to Dean’s other relief. But the notion of privacy soon vanished as there was nothing but a long line of tiled cubicles and glass door which makes almost everyone see your nakedness. Castiel has no trouble removing his garments unlike Dean who kept looking around, but he did notice Dean wouldn’t look his way. Once the bar of soap was given, they are told to proceed to the showers and into their separate cubicles. The guard watching over them tried to appear impersonal, but Castiel noticed his eyes darting to Dean who began scrubbing his body at once.

Castiel stares at the showerhead then to the wall hiding Dean. There’s a rap on his glass door. Castiel turns and sees the guard giving a fierce look.

“Fifteen minutes.”

Quietly, Castiel turns back to the wall, then the knob. Water spills on his face, cool and refreshing. He begins washing his body awkwardly, scrupulously the way how he managed it as a human. He rubs on his armpits to the crook of his neck and then down his body to his thighs. He makes a quick washing when he hears Dean’s shower head turn off and hears Dean’s glass door gets opened by the guard who says something about clean clothes and towels. Dean only grunts.

Castiel received the same treatment when he shut off the shower. He gets a clean towel and new clothes from the guard who doesn’t linger by, appearing to be so busy to notice just another naked guy. He hurried with his pants, put one leg after the other than just as he takes the grey shirt, he notices Dean already standing on his side, staring at his cuffs with a frown. Castiel blinks at his shackled hands and his shirt blinks up at Dean in dawning comprehension. 

Dean disappears behind the glass door then comes back with an officer behind him. Castiel glances at the officer while Dean stares at his bare top. After a moment, Dean shoves Castiel's unused shirt up his chest while glaring at the watching officer.

"Okay, you saw, he's naked. And in cuffs, what to do about it?" Dean stands between him and the officer, practically blocking Castiel from view. The officer frowns at Dean then radios someone before disappearing again, the sound of his shoes on the cold tiles echoing in the bathroom.

"I'd pull his eyes out if he stares at you like that, again," Dean mutters, wrapping the clothes over Castiel's shoulder.

"It's fine, I'm not cold," he says.

"Yeah, but you get people hot, I don't like that."

"Why?"

Dean gazes up, "I just don't want anyone looking at you, is that bad?"

Silence fell between them, undisrupted until the officer comes back carrying a shirt with a zipper. It's Dean who takes it, fully blocking Castiel from view again. The angel dresses in full and when done, Dean gives him a full smile.

“Nothing like home, eh?” he smiles, clean cheeks, dried hair, bright green eyes like sunshine.

“This is not home,” Castiel growls, suddenly hating the inmate uniform on his friend. They deposited the towel on the leaving station. They were ushered, more like followed by the rest of the inmates to the dining hall surrounded by cells on two levels and hundreds of inmates already taking their breakfast on the open middle court had rectangular grey tables that seemed attached on the ground for maximum safety. Dean grimaces as they catch each other’s eyes.

No throwing of tables then.

Castiel watches as inmates flood the area until he feels someone tug on his cuff. He finds Dean holding on his handcuff with a small smile. Yelling comes as a natural occurrence when they reach the heart of the dining hall. Eyes are upon their entry, heads turn, whispers of things Castiel didn’t like commenting about him and his friend made him glare. At some point someone saying a demeaning comment about Dean’s ass has Castiel turning on instinct—except Dean tugs his cuff right back with a grin. “Looks like this has benefit eh? So, I don’t lose my angel?”

“Let go. I’m going to get this guy.”

Dean laughs again but only firmly pulls Castiel close.

They fall in line with the food slot. Castiel’s eyes wander to the men staring fixedly at him and Dean. Some eyes flicker down his handcuff and for some reason fall into hush silence. Castiel tilts his head, eyes now back at Dean. The fear in the men’s eyes about his handcuffs surprised him. He meant to ask Dean after they got their trays from the table. They settled on an empty one, the dining area cluttered. Eyes still upon them.

“You think they had better else to do?” Dean growls on his food while Castiel examines his spoon. “You okay, Cas? Want me to feed you?”

“No.” Castiel puts the spoon down, “I wonder what people do here to live, Dean? I mean, they are imprisoned. If your theory of rape is common here, is that the only thing they do? I saw some checkerboards out there yesterday, they seem… common.”

Dean listens to him while he haunches on his food.

“There’s a reason it’s called ‘Correctional’, Cas… they don’t really just throw people here, you know. Not even when you’re sentenced to death. Somehow the human system applies; they can be converted.”

“Converted as in…religion?” Castiel squints.

“Converted back to human.” Dean supplies with a shrug, “I bet you they run social gatherings for religious activity here and you wouldn’t find me in one of them.”

“Why?”

Dean gives him a flat stare. “You want me to listen to someone preaching about God? After everything, he’s done? No…” Dean turns to his food again, spaghetti and meatballs.

“I’m sorry.” Castiel shakes his head, “I knew heaven will be impossible to believe now after everything, especially to you. People with religion appear more at peace somehow, I hope you can still find that peace, Dean.”

“Shut up.” Dean glares, “I may not believe in heaven, but I fucking believe in you, okay? Angels are real, so really I can kiss myself one.” He grins.

Cas blinks. Dean blushes hard but he continues smiling down his food.

“You know Cas, everything gets repeated, at the end of the day? I’m just glad I got to meet you. I think that’s my win in this messy life.”

Castiel can’t think of any response to that. Dean is here—Dean is sitting here in front of me telling him things he was always craving to know. Dean who smiles all cheeks on him, telling him despite everything, all the fucked-up things that happened, here is Dean still forgiving. Here is Dean still appreciating him. Dean who wants him in his life.

And that moment, nothing else mattered to Castiel. He just stares at the freckled human with green eyes, his heart at double speed.

“Now finish your food, we still gotta attend orientation.”

Castiel cools his head at the gentle voice. There comes a time when the angel that he is, and he thinks this world has gone downhill from the previous generation. That the world is at the peak of its worst… but then there’s Dean, still giving Castiel a reason to believe in humanity.

That’s right. It wasn’t him giving Dean _faith._

It was the other way around.

Smiling to himself, Castiel picks up his spoon again.

“What are you smiling at?” Dean asks curiously, halfway in eating his meatball. Castiel notices Dean eating it slowly, very unlike Dean to be taking his sweet time with meat. Then he realizes Dean is savoring it. Castiel looks at the two meatballs on his plate Dean has been staring at since they sat down at the table.

Quietly, Castiel stabs the meatballs with his fork and shares them to Dean who lets out a grunt of delight and eats everything.

Castiel can only smile.

Orientation according to Dean is where they will learn the answer to Castiel’s question of what the correctional have inmates do as they serve their sentence. It Turns out it’s the same system as heaven, giving them a general idea of how their days will be filled, giving them scheduled duties they need to finish. There was a mention of prison support duties, manufactures, factories, and such where Dean is assigned on the maintenance chores while Castiel is assigned on the fieldwork and livestock. There’s also a matter of cleaning duties Dean scowls at when they leave the meeting hall.

“At least you’ll be out there in the sun raising your bees.”

“Not bees. Livestock, Dean.”

“And did you see those cells just now?”

“What?” Castiel asks the first time they get themselves on the tables with the checkers.

“Some cells have tv, do you believe it?” Dean continues to pout until Castiel informs him of the large tv room he can hear where other inmates are crowding.

“If we go there, we’ll be a tv show.”

“You seem familiar with things going around, Dean. Have you ever served in public prison? Unlike the ones when you were put in isolation?”

Dean regards him quietly, then scratches the back of his head.

“I and Sam did something for a case once. Not really maximum facility stuff, just mild security. But I met someone there who told me stories about maximum security places like this. It's a general idea it’s for the psycho’s humankind ever produced. Colors matter before, in prison, right now I don’t see that yet, but I think the groups are slowly making themselves visible.”

“Groups?”

“Gangster kind… uh, like a garrison in your vocabulary. There are plenty of rules once your new blood is in the garrison. You wanna survive, you either let yourself be a bitch to someone, or you stand for yourself and then die.”

“This ‘ _rape_ ’ thing again.”

Dean grimaces. “Alright, buddy, rape is still illegal in this place, okay? What it means here is if someone jumps at you when you least expect it—and you better get it in your head it’s always coming—

“It’s the norm? Why?”

“Dude, these people here haven’t seen the outside, we’ll look like good fresh babes for milking.”

“We’re not cows.”

“My points are, like monsters drooling for our flesh, you gotta see around. Eyes are on us. That’s why I keep saying we stick together. Getting us separated is the first tactic they’ll want done.”

Saying so, Dean moves a piece from the checkerboard. Castiel studies the board a second, then follows a move thoughtfully while Dean continues, “They gotta build a team here where they can make sure they don’t get killed every day, that’s typical media bullshit. Riots happen when one group fucks with another member of another notorious group. We’re in House C, I don’t know the people here, Cas that’s why I’ve been thinking, we need to find someone casual enough we can ask. That person can give us an idea of how things go here. Who we need to be wary about?”

“Are we going to join their team?” Castiel asks. Dean is making it look like a baseball game but when the man shakes his head, the angel finds himself sighing in respite.

“We’re not gonna be anyone’s bitch.” Dean repeats, green eyes clear, “But the best thing is really to communicate, make me see we’re already a team they cannot shake. You up for it, buddy?”

“Of course, Dean. Except…” Castiel lets his voice trail as he looks over his shoulder to three inmates making purposeful walk towards them. Two tall lanky guys in gray shirts, then the guy in the middle staring down at Dean despite the height difference.

Dean’s face sets and he stands up, Castiel copying his movement.

“Are we looking for trouble?” Dean smiles. Castiel clenches his jaw because it’s that unhinging look that Dean applies usually to his enemies before ganking them. Dean once told him one of the keys in combat is always to render your opponent a reason to believe you are not a match to him. Keep them slowly put their guards down before striking. Castiel is familiar with it, but Dean’s way of smiling, his cooing voice makes it more fascinating to watch. The art of Dean Winchester.

“Remington wants to meet with you later, going to make you an offer you can’t refuse.”

“Oh?” Dean rolls eyes at Castiel whose lips curl. He studies the men, they don’t seem like the type ready for combat, at least he can’t detect any weapons. Dean seems to notice too but he doesn’t let his guard down. Castiel doesn’t leave his side. They are sticking together. Dean spoke again, “This Remington sounds very uppity, you know, I don’t like fellows like that no matter the shit they can provide this place. Listen to kiddos, you tell your boss we’re not interested in any of his jewels crystal or shit, okay?”

The men exchange looks.

“Come meet him later. He’ll get that cuff off your boyfriend.”

Castiel starts and so does Dean.

Dean hesitates. “Alright—”

Castiel grabs Dean by the shoulder, didn’t bother with the slight yelp that escaped Dean’s lips. He drags Dean away from the group he actually wants to rip apart. Eyes follow them until Dean says if any of the pit bulls see them like this, they’d be having a different idea about the relationship. Castiel releases his shoulder but is glad Dean followed him at the end of the corridor until there’s only the two of them.

“They have pit bulls here?” is the first thing he demanded.

Dean rolls his eyes. “Of course not, doofus. It’s the gang leaders, okay? The sharks are the wardens so you better polish your vocabulary.”

“What are you doing? Are we really going to meet with them?”

“Cas, I told you we need to communicate. Now, if that guy asked for your ass, I’ll be hanging his head on the hoops the next day, but I need to know the system here okay? Also, I want that handcuff off you already.”

“And if he asks you to be his bitch in return?”

Dean raises his arms, lets it fall on his side with a lame shrug.

“I want to protect you.”

“Then stop protecting me.” Cas says tersely, “I’m the angel here. I do the protecting.”

“Yeah?” Dean’s smug look returns and despite their circumstances, Castiel is just glad to see that side of Dean but all despite, it alarms him how Dean easily agrees—like this.

“Cas, we gotta have those handcuffs off if we plan to get away once Sam prays that he’s found us, okay?”

“I know that, Dean. But it seems a poor choice if you’re planning to give yourself up to them. It doesn’t make sense that you do. What do you think they’ll want from you?”

“I have ideas, but chill, okay? I’m not gonna be stupid at this.”

Someone, Castiel doesn’t believe that.

They followed the given schedule that afternoon. Castiel and Dean attend another orientation about discipline and getting paroles with another group coming now from different Houses. Wardens are around the place so no commotion broke out.

Sometime during dinner, it happened. He and Dean made their way together on an empty table with eyes still just following them around. Something in it gets Castiel a little more confident that the inmates are wary of them, not just after the ‘rape’. Was it still the handcuff? Dean was enjoying his corn beef made well by the cooks when the group walked in again, in the dining room, heads turned to Dean.

“Remington wants you to sit with him on the desk with your boyfriend.” The man tips his nose at the end of the aisle where a large group gathers around a large man with grey hair, all bulky muscles with his eyes oddly transfixed on their table.

“1 out of 2,” Dean mutters.

“What?”

Dean glares up and something about it just gave Castiel goosebumps—and he is an angel in the presence of a human. Not just any human. _Dean._

“My boyfriend and I don’t require the service, you tell daddy Remington that, okay?”

“You sure? You think Remington is the only one after your ass?” comes the threatening tone. “Look—you refuse us now you make an enemy of all of that and no one will fucking save your tight ass.”

Dean flares up, “You think I’m a fucking toy—”

Castiel stands up too but it’s not to stay with Dean. No, he bolts up, crosses the dining hall with speed, everyone in his peripheral area blurs until he is standing on the table of the large, scary human being. Castiel is not scared at all.

“Are you, Remington?”

The big man eyes Castiel from head to foot then smiles.

“You don’t look bad.”

“Cas!” Dean takes Cas’ arm and pulls him back closer, “What are you doing?”

“This man doesn’t know you belong to me so I am making it clear,” Castiel explains to Dean quietly. The hunter’s mouth falls open, a fish out of water sort but Castiel can stare at Dean all he wants later.

Eyes have fallen on them from every direction. The dining hall has gone very silent and still. That’s when Castiel slams his handcuffed hand on the metallic table, creating a shocking bang so loud like an atomic bomb was dropped over their heads ruffling with the wind. Castiel can feel his power explode inside him, yet limited as he, he can only make a dent on the table.

And he holds the saucer-eyed stare of the old man who probably may have a cardiac arrest the way his eyes bulged at the angel.

_“You leave my man alone if you value the little life you have.”_

Another ringing silence as Castiel slowly straightens.

“Cas…” Dean says, breathless as he tugs his friend back, “Come on…”

Castiel has another idea as he sweeps Dean off his feet and carries him one arm under Dean’s back, the other arm around Dean’s thighs.

[ ](https://verobatto-angelxhunter.tumblr.com/post/623675076441784320/this-is-one-of-my-artworks-for)

“C-Cas!”

The angel glares at the humans.

_“He’s mine.”_

Castiel carries Dean out of the dining hall, easily intimidating everyone.

Then the alarm blazes.

Jail guards surround their building for the next hour after the scene. The guards came just as Castiel had taken Dean out of the dining room and this grim-looking guard shut them inside the cell as the sound of alarm continued blaring and, on the intercom, came a loud voice telling them all to get down.

They are on Lockdown.

Castiel sits on his own bed knowing Dean was angry with him.

“You could have exposed yourself! Tell them I’m an angel!”

“I am an angel.” Castiel says sourly, glad Dean didn’t begin with the common “You are stupid” line because then Castiel would retort back and they would be bickering nonstop and Dean would not lay his head on his lap again.

Dean continues to breathe angrily on his bunk bed and Castiel doesn’t talk. For minutes they let the sound of the blazing alarm fill them until Castiel sees Dean turn his way with feet close to his bed.

“W-what do you mean I’m your boyfriend?” Dean asks out of nowhere.

Castiel stares up at him with his mouth hanging open. His time on earth has taught him a lot of things, one of them being that humans, whether directly or indirectly told, have a hard time believing what is told. That it takes litany og explanations, clarifications before they take in the truth. That even though they heard it already and know the meaning, they would painstakingly want elaborations until an action is done.

That's the case with Dean. It's a show don't tell. But Castiel knows he never lacks showing. It's Dean who neglects to accept the truth. That for Castiel he's always been special. That's the concern in this situation to which Castiel frowns.

"You are the one who told them we are boyfriends, Dean.”

Dean’s eyes widen, but it’s precisely this that gets Castiel standing up. Panic in seizing Dean from somewhere. “Dean…are you okay?”

“Uh… yeah…” Dean steps back. Castiel cordially follows in concern.

“What’s happening?”

“C-Cas… you know I only said that because… well, because they seem to think we are, you know. Boyfriends.” Dean continues to flail backward, but the way his face is so red, his eyes dilated till Castiel can only see black, and the fact that Dean’s heartbeat is strangely hyper-speed, Castiel follows.

“But I thought you agreed. Since you didn’t make any arguments about it.”

Dean glares back at him stunned. It seems like Dean hasn’t realized his own feelings for him. Accepting Castiel to be called his boyfriend and yet backing away when confronted is so like Dean.

“Dean, we are boyfriends,” Castiel tells him quietly, stopping in the middle of the room because Dean has shrunk back from him with his back hitting his own bunk. Castiel may like how Dean is so easy to read then, but he doesn’t like the way Dean looks very defensive and weak at the same time. 

“I’m not going to rape you.” Castiel declares, sighing out loud and returning to his seat. He pulls his grey top shirt and hangs it at the edge of his bed while Dean gapes at him, still left standing on the corner of his bed. “So, I guess we are not boyfriends.”

“W-why are you talking about boyfriends and rape at the same time?”

Castiel punches his pillow, the one he hasn’t touched since stepping in there. Dean too, who seems oblivious to the fact that he has a pillow when he slept so soundly on Castiel’s lap. He looked so adorable.

“Cas,”

“Go to sleep, Dean.”

Castiel shifts to align himself with the bed lays down and turns his back on the hunter. Few minutes passed, and he heard Dean’s racing heartbeat and tentative voice.

“Cas… Cas, do…really want to be my boyfriend?”

Castiel stiffens. He swallows hard but doesn’t look at Dean.

“Yes.”

There’s a gasp and Castiel thinks he wants to gasp too but he swallows it hard down his chest. Then he frowns when Dean sits at the edge with one of his hands slipping on the space between Castiel’s elbow and stomach. His other free hand touches Cas’ arm slightly.

“A-aren’t we talking about this, Cas?”

“You said before we don’t talk about it.”

“What?”

“Feelings.” Castiel sighs half annoyed and half exasperated. For all the beauty there is to Dean, being the recepient of love is one thing he cannot be. Won't allow himself to get. It's a very Dean Winchester thing.

He shuts his eyes close even though there’s no need for an angel to sleep. He can hear the pounding of his heart over his chest because Dean almost wraps an arm around his belly. His belly that’s feeling all fuzzy and funny knowing Dean’s hands are quite near. His jaw tightens when he feels his groin move on its own accord. So, Dean says they don’t talk about it either. There’s another pause. Dean’s hand rubs his arm.

“Can I sleep on your lap again?”

Castiel opens his eyes. Without speaking he sits up; meets Dean’s eyes and he sees what he thought he’d never see there. The kind of look Dean gives the woman he lays on the bed. The kind of look Castiel also wanted to have.

Dean’s look of hunger.

Castiel sits properly and Dean takes his lap. Except before lying there, his friend eyes the bulge in the middle of his pants. Castiel stares at Dean whose eyes widen a little more.

“C-Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?” Castiel stays transparent.

He will let Dean decide because he will never ‘ _rape_ ’ Dean. Something foul can only happen in _hell._ They may be in hell, but Dean is with him and protects him, he will. Rape is never worthy of Dean… if there’s a word Castiel wants to use that involves Dean when they let go of their limitations (Dean, mostly, who finally sees Castiel has always been ready), it’s a different word.

“Lovemaking.”

Dean’s eyes glint in meaning.

“You want… with me…?”

Castiel nods, not taking his eyes away from Dean.

Dean licks his lips, then slowly takes his position on Castiel’s lap. The angel sighs when Dean’s cheeks graze the corner of his bulge, making the tension in his body snap and crackle in different places.

He looks down at Dean heavy and meaningful. He doesn’t know when his breath began quickening, all he knows is that Dean’s head is very near the area he wants to be rubbing now. But Dean is there, watching him, staring at him with wide eyes like Castiel is showing him the content of Revelation. Dean moves his head, Castiel slightly jerks back.

“Cas…” Dean’s voice is husky, filled with arousal Castiel only hears on Dean’s prayer. The angel licks his lips, meet’s Dean’s eyes who turn his nose towards Castiel’s erection. His eyes swim seeing Dean staring at the bulge with want. He wants Dean to touch him, wants Dean to take him. Dean is staring at his erection but not doing anything about it, even when Dean looks like he can do more than staring.

Like Dean heard him, the man nudged the tip of his nose on Castiel’s cock.

“D-Dean…” Castiel gasps.

“C-Cas…” Dean breathes hard, slightly sitting up on his elbow, “Is this okay?”

“Yes,” Castiel says through heavy-lidded eyes.

Dean stares at him in wonder, then lowers his lips on the tip of Castiel’s erection. Castiel stirs and moans, unable to stop the gasping when Dean bites his cock still inside his pants.

“Shit, you’re still getting harder.” Dean says sounding very wrecked as he sits up in front of Castiel, “Are you sure it’s okay?”

“Yes.” Castiel breathes out. That’s when Dean kisses him. Kisses him a lot with their tongues dancing on fire, circling each other as they lap on each other’s mouth. Castiel has kissed once, twice maybe, but this is the first time he actually feels good. Dean is a good kisser—the movement of his tongue is highly recommendable for teasing.

[ ](https://verobatto-angelxhunter.tumblr.com/post/623675076441784320/this-is-one-of-my-artworks-for)

Then comes the sucking of his bottom lip with a hand on his cock. Castiel moans again, giving Dean access to his mouth which the hunter did not waste diving his tongue at, playing with Castiel’s gums, the roof of his mouth, and everywhere. He cups Castiel’s face, kisses him like crazy while Castiel lets him. He let Dean take, just take and the kisses go crazy for him too.

Dean strokes his pants, pressing on Castiel bulge again before he slips his hand inside Castiel’s pants. The angel’s head rolls back and he screams if not for the kiss Dean is peppering his mouth. He can feel Dean’s hand hard and in need of his cock as he jerks him from the root to the head. No one has ever touched him this way, his episode with April was quick and not really sensual the way Dean moves on him, kissing his lips, biting his neck and twisting his now hard cock.

“Dean—”

“Shh… I got you…” Dean whispers, sitting up, pulling Castiel’s pants a little down his thighs, and straddling him. 

They look in each other’s eyes, Dean not letting go of Castiel’s stiffness he seems to enjoy at his mercy. He runs his palm on the hardness, has his thumb pressed on Castiel’s head, and spreads the bead of cum already coming out of Castiel.

Castiel swallows, breathes hard, eyes on the man.

After a while, Dean catches his breath.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Dean asks and Castiel sees a flicker of guilt in his green eyes. Does Dean think he is raping Castiel?

Castiel does something he’s always done because nothing in this is out of their scope now. He cups Dean’s beautiful frame and holds it in his palm like it’s the most precious thing in the world.

“Make love to me,” Castiel whispers and then pauses at the lengthy look Dean gives him. Castiel knows he said the phrase correctly so he hooked both arms still tied on the cuff on Dean’s neck and pulled him into a soft kiss that melts his inside, where he is glad Dean is quickly jumping in.

Consent was given.

The lockdown meant a complete 24 hours being locked in their cell which is not out of their favor. The first time they did it is easily followed the next few hours with no one and nothing to interrupt them. Dean does not shy away from initiating with heavy-lidded eyes only fixating on Castiel’s lips, their hands entwining before they kiss slowly. Castiel is glad he is on his angel cuff that can at least limit his power whenever he feels like the whole room should shatter to pieces every time Dean goes down on him. The way he wants to press on Dean, the way he wants to take Dean is painful even when Dean is just there.

 _“Jesus…”_ Dean kisses his shoulders as Dean drapes his body behind Castiel followed by another roll call of curses.

“Don’t….” Castiel breathes, knees sinking down the bed as Dean goes all inside him. Their grunts and moans fill the air and all Castiel remembers is how the darkness doesn’t feel any cold like it's promised punishment.

Their food tray comes in rations and Dean is disappointed at all the stew. Castiel sits on Dean’s bed, listening to the man’s grumbles of how he is going to buy an entire state of beer house while at the back garden there’ll be a bee compound where Castiel can take care of his bees.

It was a nice picture.

It’s Dean’s head on his lap again that makes Castiel sigh and wonder why this little room didn’t feel like hell at all. Even with the angel cuff, Dean still manages to find the perfect spot on his lap where Castiel can easily loop one of his arms around Dean’s hair, his other hand stroking Dean’s jaw, enclosing his man in his arms. Just like where Dean belongs.

The way Dean’s lips quirks at him when the angel plays his fingers, rubbing Dean’s cleft chin he’s staring for a whole minute.

“What’s in your mind, Cas?” Dean whispers, half sleepy, arms crossed on his chest. Castiel only hums. “Come on, you can tell me… we can’t live on sex alone.”

“Of course, you can’t,”

“Then what?”

“Tomorrow morning we’re going to start our separate work.”

Dean opens his eyes. “Yeah.”

Castiel nods but Dean only seems to want to listen. He licks his lips.

“So… I will be working out there… in the field…”

“Ooh, you’d look hot sweating under the sun.”

“I don’t sweat under any circumstances.”

“That’s not true from what I tasted last time,” Dean flashes the angel a grin, “Cas, you’ll look so hot burning under the sun wearing only your shirt… fuck, makes me wanna sneak out just to see you sweltering out there.”

“Dean, are you really my boyfriend.”

“Of course, I am, baby.”

“Then why are you so

“Oh, yeah because it’s hot. Don’t tell me you’ve never thought of me being hot doing stuff other than hunting? I mean, I know I look good— but doing an average Joe thing that makes you just wanna nail me on the spot. Never had any of those epiphanies?”

“Under your baby,” Castiel says and Dean grins broadly, with meaning. Castiel squints. “I meant under your car, Dean. While you fix it wearing your blue jumper… it makes you really…” Castiel swallows. He remembers Dean when they were living with Bobby… Dean is always over his head and grumpy. And very endearing with his firm belief no matter how annoyed Castiel always gets with his life choices. Thinking of Dean in the same outfit starting tomorrow is nice. But under their current situation, Castiel can’t help frowning.

Castiel runs the pad of his thumb over Dean’s wet lips he’s been kissing for almost 20 hours now, still swollen and attractive.

“You thinking of me now, Cas?”

“I’m thinking how I want to stay beside you in that maintenance area,” Castiel confesses, “Where I can protect you from harm.”

Their gazes fix.

“I’ll be fine, Cas.”

“Yeah, but don’t do anything stupid.”

“I won’t if you kiss me.”

Castiel has never granted Dean’s wish in a heartbeat.

The bell rings for morning and the doors clanked open, shedding bright lights in the room where Castiel and Dean flood the mezzanine with the others outside to get their breakfast from the commissary. Only sounds of feet and utensils can be heard in the hallway that drowns the whispers from yesterday’s spectacle. Every time someone starts to strike a conversation, the jail guards would shout warnings and that’s the end of the senseless talk.

Castiel sweeps his eyes around while Dean quietly eats his breakfast. From whispers of work and duty to time schedule and green pea, people all around them are the same as the angel’s eyes. All prisoners have a bit of dull tune around them and he notices beyond the unscrupulous appearances, the trademark tattoos and scars, their eyes are soulless. Lonely. He doesn’t try to pry in their minds and decides the only person whose soul is burning from day one no matter the darkness of the world is here opposite him.

Picking on his mushroom soup.

“Eat your mushroom,” Dean tells him, pushing the plate to Castiel who could care less. “It’ll really look strange if they notice you really don’t eat anything, Cas and still able to keep those biceps… and muscles… and beautiful skin.” The hunter shakes his head. Castiel pauses uncertainty and picks up his spoon.

“Dean,” he says, “I think something’s going to happen tonight.”

Dean’s expression turns grave. “Why?”

Castiel moves his eyes behind Dean. He can feel it, eyes darting their way again.

“Cas,” Dean says, not looking around. “I think we’ve established how we’re the eye candy here,”

“Don’t these humans know no fear? Haven’t I established much from last time?” Castiel gives Dean a piercing look, “I have already made my claim.”

Dean watches him with jaw still working the last piece of bread he was eating, and just when the angel thinks his charge is going to explain, Dean just shrugs nonchalantly and says, “We’re in prison. Everyone here only fears the big bosses of the mob and that’s not two newbies even with the hot guy has karate-chopping table tricks.”

“So, they want something solid,” Castiel turns glumly away.

“Yep and people here don’t let mouths stop their dick, okay? Stop depressing yourself about it, we’ll be finding. I’m sure Sam’s gonna be calling us soon.”

“He hasn’t prayed.” Castiel wrinkles his nose. You think his flu—”

“For mere flu to stop Sammy rescuing us? But yeah, I guess. That big baby tends to get the worse flu once in a blue moon,” Dean grins again, “but we’re fine. You’re going out there and take care of the chickens and the bees— I’ll take care of the dirty job. Trust me, Cas. I know how prison works.”

“So, it seems.” Castiel still feels worried as they dump their trays in the cart to start the day and he follows Dean to the hallways where they can find instructions of stations, “I can give you my angel blade.”

Dean’s face cracks. 

“How come I don’t touch it when we fuck? You’re not even wearing your magic trench coat,”

“It’s not a magic trench coat.”

Dean laughs and when they reach the end of the corridor, Castiel pulls Dean’s arm back, his shackles jangling in the process.

“Dean, you’ll pray to me, right?”

“Pray I don’t add poor souls in hell,” Dean says in all seriousness before he is touching Castiel’s wrist too, “You gonna be fine out there?”

“I will,”

“Then go make me proud. And Cas?” Dean’s eyes glints. He takes a step in front of Castiel, hand gripping a little tighter, “don’t go to any dark corners, okay? That’s where they like it best- and don’t take anything anyone gives you, even if they tell you it’s honeybee or fucking sesame seed for hamsters, they don’t have that here. They’re going to get you in trouble.”

“Okay…”

“And never show anyone how you can carry five pigs on each arm— but you can crush a wall or two just to scare those who’ll try to jump, you, okay?”

“Dean,”

“Fuck, what if they use those chains,” Dean grits his teeth, “don’t believe anyone if they tell you they can remove it, okay? At least without telling me. Cas, don’t do anything reckless while I’m not around, you get it?"

Castiel’s face turns somber. Dean is fussing. Dean is worried. Castiel sees it in the hunter’s wide, green saucer eyes and the way he bites bottom lip.

“Dean,” Castiel says, almost both exasperated but his heart is swelling from Dean’s gesture, “I’m going to be okay.”

He watches Dean go away with a slight hitch of breath when he disappears at the corner. The maintenance room Dean is assigned into is the backbone of any building with all the darkest corners.

Dean is alone. That’s when he is most dangerous.

Castiel heads outside to the bright morning lights towards the livestock department where he is greeted by a man of forty’s who manages the facility. There’s a short introduction, his name is Andy, Cas says Steve. Andy is a well-rounded guy with clear brown eyes and blonde hair with a tattoo of a heart on his shoulder No asking about Castiel’s cuffed wrists because maybe it’s less trouble so he leads him to another piece of land some thousands acre before the angel.

“Cattle operation is one of our Prison’s important jobs. Out here you don’t only learn how to take care of animals, you also learn skills you’ll take with you for the rest of your life. We don’t usually let a newcomer come in here, but it’s not like I’ll be assigning you in the vacuum areas or aiding in birth.”

“Anything is fine.”

Castiel follows Andy to one of the prison dairy powered by vacuum cubes where around other inmates are already stalled with twenty or more cows whose job is to set the cows for milking by schedule where they dip the cow’s teats in iodine and place suctioned milkers on them.

“It'll only take five to six minutes to milk a cow using the machines,” Andy says beside him while Castiel tilts his head as he stares Gustav the cow in the eyes, “Since you’re new, you’ll be assigned to make sure the facilities are clean at all times. We cannot afford contamination when we are working with food products, Bessy won’t be happy with that.” Saying so, Andy pats the cow’s head.

“His name is Gustavo,” Castiel says quietly.

Andy shakes his head. “It’s female cattle.”

“Doesn’t make a difference, it’s what its mother named her after.”

Andy’s face falls but their conversation is put into a halt when a man appears by the entrance. Another inmate, tall and brawny finds them, huffing.

“We need help with Lola, Dee, she’s not helping with junior.”

There’s a short exchange and they’re all joggling towards another smaller building that smells of manure and hay. At the center of the pile are two men crouching beside a cow obviously giving birth. One of them is trying to soothe it while the other just pulls out a hand from her anus.

“I can’t pull it, it’s too heavy, it’s not stuck but we already got the feet tied,” Dwayne gravely said while Andy takes over after a thorough cleaning of hands.

“How long has she been in labor?”

“Almost thirty-five minutes. She’s dilated, we can pull out safely if the rope didn’t cut—we need to hurry.”

“Shit,” Andy turns a look at the cow, sticks his hand in, after five laborious minutes, he gets the feet out, then the head, “Don’t worry gal, we got this. Hey, Steve, can you help with pulling? Shit, it’s big and we could injure her—”

Castiel blinks as he takes the rope from Andy and put it swiftly without injuring the cow or the calf, he knows, he can tell. He is an angel. He quickly heals the cow too.

That stopped the agony of the humans who all stare at Castiel before Andy is ordering things to be cleaned in the area. Castiel holds out a hand to help him stand up and he receives a pat on the shoulder. Half the day pans out with Castiel only cleaning the stable before he is told by Andy that he can ditch the janitorial duties.

He will help to milk the cows.

By lunchtime, Castiel finds Dean in the dining hall but the hunter is not alone. Beside him sits a dark-haired man. Castiel hurries to the table, eyeing the guy. Dean glances up and reaches a hand on his wrist.

“It’s okay, he’s a friend.”

“Oh, he’s really pretty handsome like the rumor said,” the stranger says, eyes falling on the handcuff as Castiel sits down. Castiel glowers at him while Dean nods and turns his head to his ‘friend’.

“Alright, fuck off, you’re not my friend.”

The dark-haired man chuckled and quietly left the table.

“Who is he?” he asks, not bothering to fall in line for the trays.

“Tom Sawyer.”

Castiel’s eyebrows rose. Dean shrugs.

“It’s what he said, okay? You think they’ll be giving us a complete name here. Anyway, how’s your day?”

Castiel tells Dean about the calving and his duties which made the hunter laugh.

“I knew it, cowboy life suits you.”

“We’re not talking about your hobby, Dean. Although I heard there are around 30 horses on the field too. Don’t you want to be transferred there?”

Dean shakes his head, “Cas, we’re not staying here for good, don’t get used to it.”

“Oh,” he must look disappointed because Dean leans towards him above his untouched tray, smiling. Castiel catches his meaningful eyes.

“Although, I won’t say the same about our nightlife.”

Castiel feels the heat run from his neck to his cheeks. Dean grins and patches of pink appear over his cheeks too.

“Who is this Tom Sawyer?” Castiel clears his throat.

“But Tom Sawyer is like a medium here, no one touches him because he knows everything about everybody and is a good link to many divided factions.”

“What does he want?”

“He’s come to strike a deal about what we want in here because that’s what most of the groups are asking. They want to know what makes _you_ tick too.” Dean is grinning now, “After that display yesterday, doubt they’d dare approach but yeah, got them thinking if you always go all-Hulk. That’s why they’re asking. Want to know more.”

“And?” Castiel tilts his head.

“Fuck them, we aren’t giving them shit, Cas.”

Castiel doesn’t say anything. Dean crosses his arms on the table. “I thought you’re big on making allies, Cas?”

“That was last time,” Castiel holds Dean’s gaze into his, “I told you they are planning something tonight. You don’t hear them talk about Green pea so savagely… they’re still talking about it now even in lunchtime when

“You saying I’m Green pea?”

Castiel nods. Dean makes a face of disgust.

“What do they call you?”

“Durex.”

Dean nearly falls on his chair. Castiel grimaces because he knows what it means. The number of times he’s seen it falling from Dean’s jacket or pants.

Dean’s face is red but he tries to keep it to himself. Next thing he is grinding his teeth.

“Those idiots making fun of you for… but whatever’s gonna happen tonight, it’ll be something stupid, you know why? Because I asked Tom Sawyer about it and he says it’s got nothing to do with us. Says some bad drug dealing and after yesterday, even with the maximum lockdown going on, they’ll push it because the targets least expect it.”

“And their targets are not…us?”

“Nope. This place is more than just two hunkies with hot ass creating uproars amongst the horny sons of bitches. As long as we keep our heads down, we’ll be fine. Just avoid House A that’s all. That’s where the riot will happen.”

But Castiel doesn’t let his guard down even with Dean assuring him that it was still all going under negotiation between him and Tom Sawyer. Castiel doesn’t trust anyone, maybe someone like Andy who seems to really love his job at calving so when he and Dean are about to separate again after lunch and he sees the manager of the dairy facility, he pointedly stops.

Dean calls him but when he doesn’t respond, Dean comes back beside him.

“What?”

“Hey, Steve,” Andy makes his way in the crowd of muscles and brutes but they make way for him anyway, “You heading back to the dairy? Give me a minute,”

Castiel tilts his head and begins the second in his head until Dean nudges his shoulder. Andy’s eyes fall on Dean. There’s a tense exchange where the two men sized each other up until Dean shrugs and turns away. Andy narrows his eyes before he is looking back at Castiel.

“He’s a friend,” Castiel says.

“Cool,” Andy shakes his head, “Anyway, I will be late for a couple of minutes. Check the calf this morning, would you?”

“Okay,”

Andy disappears as quickly as he came.

“He can’t pull a fucking calf using all that muscles, Cas?”

“Where will we meet later?” Castiel wants to know when they reach the hallway again. “I want you safe by my side before anything else happens.”

The corner of Dean’s lips curls.

“Awe, I have Durex protection,”

“Dean,”

“Okay, fine. Sorry, Tom Sawyer stirred me to the table this lunch, I was supposed to meet you out there too. But let’s meet here, is that fine? Don’t worry about me, I’m good, people keep away from me after your first-talking show.” Dean winks but as he walks away again, Castiel can’t help feeling uneasy.

Dean’s back disappears and the itch to follow him doesn’t disappear.

Castiel’s unease pan out to be real when after 5 pm and everyone has flooded back in all drenched and sweaty Dean did not show up. Castiel tells himself to wait for two minutes, but then Dean doesn’t have any reason to make him wait so at ten seconds Castiel is striding towards the end of the hallway towards Dean’s quarters.

It’s also a fact most of the people he catches whispering Dean’s name as the ‘Green Pea’ are not there in the queue. Feeling the tightness taking hold of his heart, Castiel guns for Dean. He waits for Dean to pray but there’s nothing so he focuses on Dean’s bright soul. He feels it so much closer than he expected.

He finds Dean breathing heavily in front of the male’s bathroom mirror, washing his face.

“Dean!”

The hunter looks around and Castiel’s world stops.

Dean is supporting a bleeding lip and a gash at the corner of his head. He hears Dean whisper a soft curse before washing his face again. Castiel is beside him the next time he stands straight and is sliding both palms on Dean’s cheeks to check him.

“Are you okay?” Castiel’s body turns cold, “Dean…?”

“It’s nothing, I got rid of em,” Dean says quickly, catching Castiel’s wrist firmly, “Don’t worry, Cas, I’m fine,”

But it’s not fine and Castiel can feel his hands shaking very badly as he tilts Dean’s head from side to side with the burning anger stirring inside him. Dean tries to say soothing words but it won’t take. Castiel can only see the swollen lip, the lips he loved kissing bruised and purple on the corner. The gash on his head Castiel usually sees after a hunt, but this is no hunt. Dean was hunted and Castiel can’t find it in him to forgive.

“Hey, I’m fine… Cas, look at me…it’s fine,” Dean lets him gently stroke his cheeks, and then Castiel is healing him. Limited with angel cuffs or not, he uses all the ounces he can pull to heal Dean. He presses their heads together until he can hear Dean breathing easily.

He traces the line of Dean’s ample lips red and beautiful.

He kisses Dean.

The bathroom door opens and ugly laughter comes from it with five to six people.

Castiel turns and sees two of those men are beaten bloody. The men Dean beat up returned with four more to take in one man. Castiel can’t hear Dean. He just sees his enemies and he doesn’t understand what kind of humans would do this to someone like Dean whose done nothing but to always save the world from monsters.

Who saves Dean from the real monsters?

Castiel pushes Dean aside and lets his angel blade slide down his head from the gray sleeves. Dean’s eyes widened. Castiel’s eyes shine like the Northern star, bright and exalted.

_Pay._

The alarm blazes loudly in Castiel’s ear but it's Dean’s hands pulling him back that gets him to snap back and see things for what it is. Four men are sprawled bloody on the floor with the sink spraying a water fountain above their heads. One is screaming for help about murder one second but Dean kicks him in the chin and then is pushing Cas inside one of the cubicles. Without explaining anything, Dean takes the bloody angel blade and sticks it inside the toilet’s flushing system.

“Clean yourself,” Dean orders as the jail guards swarm the area, “Don’t say anything, you hear? Just go with whatever the hell I will say—”

Castiel barely has time to register what Dean is planning when the cubicle door is yanked open and in the next beat both he and Dean are on their knees, head down, hands at the back of their heads. Castiel catches Dean’s eyes and only earns him a glare and a shake of the head.

“What the fuck happened here?” The warden, barks over the head, “Is this you two...?” They stay quiet. “I’m asking a question!” the warden grabs Castiel by the collar and heaves him up—

“We didn’t do anything! Do you see any blood on our bodies?” Dean says angrily, “we were trapped in there, get the fuck off him!”

“And just the two of toy happen to be in the same stall?”

_“Yeah, cuz we were fucking the minute they started fighting!”_

“Boss,” says one of the jail guards, pulling the blood angel blade that Castiel only uses to injure soaked in water. Castiel turns to Dean but the hunter doesn’t even bat an eyelid. The warden takes it and spits on the ground.

“Bring these idiots to the hospital, and you,” the man points at Dean with the blade, “You know who did this?”

“You think we’re stupid to rat people out?”

“Alright with that mouth. You’re on the seg for the next six days. I don’t need people encouraging fucking in between lockdowns. Get these idiots out here!”

“Seg?” Castiel asks Dean quickly. Dean grimaces as they get ushered outside with not a trace of injury in their body. “Dean?”

Dean sighs. “See you in six days. And don’t do anything stupid, okay? I’ll be back soon,”

Castiel panics.

Dean is taken to segregation that night leaving Castiel stricken. Dean tells him the ‘seg’ is like a confessional, an area where people are kept away from isolation in order to reflect on their sins. Dean has no sin. Dean protected him, it was he who was supposed to be there.

Castiel is left in the cell as another lockdown shut them away. The cell felt uncomfortably suffocating without Dean. Castiel doesn’t sleep but he can feel the raw emptiness of the room, especially in the dark.

Six days. He barely survived an hour without worrying about Dean. Castiel leans on the brick wall, curling on Dean’s empty bed. It was just that morning he and Dean were snuggled here, a few hours after their last intimate touch. In a blink of an eye, he lost Dean and it left the angel helpless, hapless. If only he wasn’t chained, he could get out of there and get Dean, but Dean told him to stay put. Dean told him to stay and wait. Castiel tries his best not to let the coldness of the room get to him but it is impossible when he has tasted Dean’s warmth… to have a world where Dean does not exist scares him.

But the fact is, Dean is also there, suffering in silence. He doesn’t pray to Castiel and it’s a testament of how much Dean is still solidly standing on his own feet that he doesn’t let Castiel hear his fears. So maybe, Dean’s faith is stronger than Castiel every thought it was.

So Castiel endures.

He busies himself the following days with literal dairy chores. Andy keeps him occupied with different lessons about calving, though, Castiel actually has watched plenty of knowledge about animal birthing but he lets the man do his job and he does his. During lunchtime, Castiel locks himself back in his room, not really needing any supplements like any human. This way he can stay out of trouble. He knows the number of eyes is following him every time he walks alone in the corridor. He doesn’t take the bite. Usually, he stirs out of his way, the memory of breaking wind in the dining hall on their first day still fresh in their memory.

And then the real reason why they keep away is the return of one of the inmates Castiel beat up in the bathroom. He can feel the man’s eyes on him full of uncertainty and fear and there are usually whispers that follow. Castiel hears them. Most of them don’t understand. His eyes did not glow white because he’s a demon, it’s the opposite in fact.

But they stay clear of him.

Castiel has never felt suffocation and so alone. Dean should be here with him. He prays that Dean would pray, but like the stubborn old man that he is, he keeps to himself. Though Castiel can feel Dean mostly, he’s glad it’s no pain or any sort.

But there sure is a hellish tug of longing. He feels Dean at the back of his mind, stirring, wading to be touched, aching to be near. He can’t believe he _can’t kick the walls and find Dean._

He endless tries to break the chains on his wrist every night, the chains the becoming torture, and the Dean in his head tells him to stop. He does because it’s what Dean would have told him. But the angel calms himself by pointing out to himself, with a little egging from the Dean at the back of his mind, that at least there’s hope to see Dean on a given time unlike when he lost him against the President’s secret service.

At least in due time, he’ll see Dean again. That’s where he anchors his faith.

When one-time Castiel is cleaning the vacuum machines and sees a shadow behind him, he grimaces. Turning behind him, he saw three men from House A he usually saw sneaking a look around Dean. Castiel is only armed with one metal mop.

Three against a mop and he is cuffed. Plus, he isn’t in the mood. It’s been five days without Dean. He reminds himself at least Dean is safe there. Andy asked about Dean last Monday and he told Castiel the segregation is the safest place in the entire prison hall. Still, it doesn’t drive away his bad mood.

“Why are you cuffed?” snarls one of the men, a broad bald man with yellow teeth. Castiel eyes him darkly.

“Do you not have chores to finish?” he pulls the mop-up his shoulder and shifts in one leg looking bored. His blue eyes gleam, “I understand. I’ve heard about how you try to shove all your work and duties to new inmates. That is not how this is done. You are supposed to do service from the bottom of your hearts or how else do you learn life lessons if you keep pushing it to other people? That’s not life… taking advantage of the weak is monstrous… that’s cheating.”

One of the lanky men dares to step forward but comes to a short give step from Castiel. He wouldn’t blame him. His whole attention is on this human now and he isn’t pleased. He has work to do and Andy trusts him to finish everything on time.

“Hey, you think you’re an angel or something? Telling us how to—”

Castiel squints. “I am, in fact.”

The men's snicker is a pure mockery. Castiel glowers at them darkly.

“You do know why I am in handcuffs, don’t you?” Castiel tells them slowly as he brings the mop steel down to the level of his waist. Making sure all eyes are on him, he snaps it in two like a twig.

Three pairs of eyes bulge out of their sockets. Castiel sighs as he throws the pieces down the floor and glares up.

“Look what you did? How am I to tell Andy you broke it?”

“W-we didn’t do that!” shouts the shortest man but Castiel’s heavy sigh keeps them all alert. He looks around and sees a spade. He grudgingly goes for it and points it at the men’s face.

“Since you are very nice men, why don’t you help me out with cleaning the manure? I will not speak about how you broke the mop, or how you put a hole in one of the trucks because as far as I can tell, you also destroyed one of the machines here, you guys being in an area where you’re not allowed.”

“We didn’t destroy no shit!” shouts the tallest man again but he looks so spooked that Castiel finds himself shaking his head. Without a word, Castiel pulls back his body and javelin throws the spade straight to the direction of the wall where it struck the cemented wall and dug deep in a crack.

Gasps all around and Castiel is dusting his hand quietly. He raises eyebrows at the three men all standing before him with shaking legs.

“Manure,” he says, dangerously calm, “Now.”

They all grab the nearest spades and scrambles out to the stables.

Castiel picks up the metal mop and easily unsticks the spade from the wall. He puts the tools on the side and now wonders if anyone would notice a crack on the wall. He can hear Dean laughing in his ears if he tells him. Also hears Dean cursing at the attempt to outnumber an angel.

Mostly, he just wants Dean.

It is still unnerving to be so alone inside his cell that by the sixth day, Castiel is pulling for the strings of time, and would have zapped it if he could still time travel when Dean finally appears in the hallway.

It’s past lunchtime but Castiel has been waiting since that morning. Everyone is inside the dining hall and no one except Tom Sawyer and Andy gave him a little nod—fifteen minutes later and Dean’s there, green eyes freckles, chestnut hair—

Castiel breaks into a run and dives into Dean’s arms.

“Oomph,” Dean doesn’t even get shaken from where he stands as he gathers Castiel in his arms and squeezed him tight. “Someone’s missed me,”

“Dean…” Castiel says many times, his face irremovable from Dean’s shoulder, neither are his arms detachable. “Dean…” his voice shakes and he wants to climb on Dean’s body because Dean is also holding him so tight that his feet have left the ground, but he didn’t want Dean to get crushed by his weight.

“Hey… I’m here…” Dean tells him softly in the ear and Dean’s mouth is scorching as it grazes his cheek. Castiel claws in Dean’s clothes and doesn’t let go until Dean has arms around his waist. “I fucking missed you too, Cas…. You’ve no idea how I barely made scraps back there…”

“I do, in fact,” Castiel whispers, feeling Dean’s shaft sticking up between them.

That’s Castiel’s cue, he pulls up and glances around. The jail guards are all pointedly looking at the mess hall hidden from view. Castiel entwines his hand with Dean’s whose eyes have fallen in their same pattern of just staring out on his lips. Castiel swallows hard.

“Are you hungry, Dean?”

“I’m hungry for you,” Dean surges forward and impatiently breathes in his mouth. Castiel puts a hand over Dean’s chest and glances over his shoulder. Dean keenly rubs against him, making Castiel smile and push the man away again.

“Cas, I want you,” Dean mutters, licking behind his ear.

Castiel nods and looks around one last time before he pulls Dean out of the hallway back into the mezzanine leading to the showers. When Dean realizes where Castiel is headed, he practically pushes the angel inside the shower’s stalls which are empty at that time of the day.

“You need a shower,” Castiel says, watching as Dean sheds his clothes down the floor in one sweep, then he is helping Castiel undress too.

“Hell yeah.”

Dean tears away the remaining shirt and pushes Castiel to the wall without preamble. A gasp escapes Castiel but he doesn’t get out much air as Dean’s lips crush on his own again. It’s hot and full, it makes his insides coil. He missed Dean, oh yes, he did. Dean is in his arms now, making him forget of the days and time apart, making him remember what it feels like to not be alone. Dean holds the small of his back and pushes their flush bodies together. They make loud noises with Dean’s hand steady on his hipbones. Castiel gasps when Dean grinds his thigh on his groin. Shock shoots through his body as Dean doesn’t stop pressing, finally slotting a thigh between Castiel’s legs to spread apart while his mouth openly suckles on the angel’s neck, leaving wet traces and marks around.

Castiel whimpers. He tries to cling to Dean but he can’t get past the hunter’s collar bones without hurting him with the shackles so he stays pinned by the wall, Dean’s hands running on his smooth sides while leaving his marks everywhere his mouth can reach.

“Dean… arms…” Castiel whispers, still trying to get his arms behind Dean’s neck to finally lock the hunter. Dean’s sudden brush on his slowly hardening shaft. Castiel can’t relax on Dean’s wildfire touches. He wants to reach for Dean’s hair, to move their bodies closer, to run his hand all over Dean’s body but he’s stuck so enduring the itch to touch Dean, he lets his hand steady, but his mouth latches to Dean’s soft lips greedily, burning and impatient.

Dean’s hands grapple both his shoulders to the bruising point and for several minutes, he let Dean take what he wants, let Dena have what he needs while his own stomach clenches, desperate for contact.

All Castiel remembers from the whirlwind of thoughts in his head is how Dean is now here, solid and not leaving. He breathes and moans in Dean’s lips, fiery passion taking hold everywhere Dean touches while his own hand still clutch between them, the only space they cannot crack because of the handcuffs.

But Castiel doesn’t care. Dean’s inseams are hot and welcoming he lets their tongue wallow in heat, Dean opening him, tasting inside until Castiel stops moving to let Dean kiss the life out of his vessel.

When Dean pulls out with a huff, lips pressing on Castiel’s cheeks, he whispers, “Shit, that was hot,”

Castiel zones out with mouth hanging open, lips wet and red from the thorough kissing. Dean smiles and sucks his on lips again till moans can be heard between them again. Castiel feels Dean’s cock twitching between them. He wants to touch it, swallow Dean, make Dean cum in his mouth but the hunter has a different idea.

Castiel’s hands get yank up from the sound of the chains, arms extending so he is completely under Dean’s mercy.

“Dean…” Castiel chokes when Dean savagely attacks his neck again, their chest now pressing, nothing in between. His hands trap above him, Castiel lets Dean ravish his trembling body. Dean slides his tongue in the middle of his chest where he then starts sucking Castiel’s nipples in earnest. Castiel squirms in discomfort at the tightening buds where Dean flattens his tongue and grazes his teeth.

“Did you miss me?” Dean mumbles with breath tickling the angel’s already sensitive nipple. Castiel makes a noise behind his throat.

“Of course, Dean,” Castiel closes his eyes tight as Dean tortures his other bud while his free hand steadies Castiel’s hips before it slides down to hold his cock. Castiel gasps and holds his breath. Dean traps his thighs so he can’t thrust properly and his arms are still pinned up. Dean’s skin is burning and he doesn’t let go of Castiel’s cock, jacking him slowly till beads of precum spurts from its head. Castiel turns his head with a sob. He wants to touch Dean but is not allowed to. He wants to fuck into Dean’s hand but Dean’s thick thighs won’t let him. For now, Dean is making him his lunch with lavish lips coursing around his skin, leaving wet marks and trails, kissing his shoulder and licking his underarms in the most sensual way that makes the angel bite his bottom lips.

Then Dean is back on tracing his jaws, moaning on his skin with one hand sliding behind Castiel to cup his ass and grind their hips closer. Castiel breathes through his nose, heart racing.

“What did you do when I’m not around?” Dean whispers on his ears as he nibbles his lobes, “You… played around without me, babe?”

“How…” Castiel mumbles while he tries to tug his arms back to Dean but the chains won’t let him. Being in Dean’s mercy doesn’t scare him one bit, on the contrary, it fuels his body even more. “I don’t…”

Dean smiles and kisses him softly and loud. Another whimper escapes his lips when Dean’s finger circles his ring and still, he is trapped. He has never been in this kind of scenario before—well, there was that one time his brothers tortured him—but this isn’t torture, this is with Dean.

Dean licks his neck for all intent, giving Castiel a buzzing feeling at the pit of his stomach. Dean kisses him abruptly when a finger breach inside. Castiel’s head swirls in pleasure and he tiptoes while trying not to press hard on Dean’s finger. Added to this is Dean pressing a thigh on his front, it’s a dual sensation that has the angel groaning again, sending sparks in his eyes.

“Dean, please…”

“You haven’t answered,” Dean ghosts his lips. “What’ve you done here while I’m away…?”

“Nothing…”

“Really?” Dean pulls away from his finger and Castiel protests loud but the hunter holds his chains firmly back. Dean’s eyes are dark as he runs his hand up Castiel’s middle to press over Castiel’s middle, “Then what’s that I hear about a handsome newcomer breaking a mop with his hand and destroying a truck at the same time?”

“I didn’t destroy a truck,” Castiel whines with Dean doing a circling movement with their hips, it gets him dizzy, “I was… trying to keep them away…”

“And you thought damaging properties will do it?” Dean leans closer and nibbles on his bottom lip, “You think to scare them…?”

Castiel gulps, eyes openly staring at Dean now. Dean stares back at him and they soak in each other’s gaze for a long minute before Dean’s fingers find its way back on Castiel’s ass.

“You are… one crazy strong bastard, you know that, Cas?” Dean kisses him and pulls immediately, Castiel just watches his lips longingly, “You know how you can easily crush me with your hand?”

“I can’t,” Castiel says, lost in the heat of Dean’s mouth catching him again and again, “I’m… I’m tired…”

Dean captures his lips again. Castiel doesn’t care about the world when Dean kisses him like that like Dean wants to kiss his soul. And there’s Dean tugging his hands higher as he presses closer and then Castiel’s arms fall on his sides. Surprised, the angel looks down his hands to see that his chains are gone. Dean has them and there’s a playful smile on his lips when he throws it down the floor.

“How did you…?”

Dean shrugs, green eyes watching Castiel’s lips with too much hunger so Castiel launches himself to his charge, his boyfriend, lover, his everything. He wraps arms around Dean and frantically kisses him till their lips are swollen and raw. Dean has another plan when he pushes Castiel back and flips him so his stomach presses on the cold wall—then Dean turns on the shower, soaking their sweltering skin with icy cold water. Castiel feels it run in his skin because he’s so sensitive to the light touches of the hunter.

Dean tackles his back with hands cupping both his ass, spreading his cheeks open, preparing him and Castiel exhales loud with hands sliding on the wall for purchase. He can feel Dean’s cock already hard and curling up Dean’s stomach and when Dean drapes his body over him to kiss his shoulder, he can feel its thickness pressing on his crack. Castiel shudders uncontrollably. It’s his body, it’s been so long that the ache he feels is more longing than anything.

Dean pulls back with hands working on Castiel’s cheeks, kneading and stretching until the first slap comes, echoing in the room and making Castiel jump.

“Tell me how you scared those fuckers away from you, Cas…” Dean breathes out, dark and heavy. Castiel gasps when two fingers get inside and he squirms and pants on the wall.

“I… I threw a spade over their head… it stuck on the wall…”

Dean makes a sound between his nasal and throat and he drapes his body over Castiel again, two fingers still circling inside the angel.

“You made what…?” Dean buries his nose in Castiel’s neck, “Fuck… that’s so hot… you made them wet their pants…” he kisses the back of Castiel’s ears, but Castiel is busy with the shape of Dean’s cock pressed between them. He reaches a hand behind him to claw around Dean’s hips but Dean disappears—

Castiel can’t explain the lost sensation until he realizes Dean is kneeling behind him—with a jolt, Dean’s tongue is on the rim of his ass and the suctioning sound he makes is enough to drive Castiel to the wall. Castiel presses his forehead on the wall and lets Dean open him, licking inside him, burying his nose deep till the angel is panting and sweating. Yes, he is sweating.

Dean eats him for a good fifteen minutes, a very long preparation in Castiel’s opinion but it’s for Dean, Dean gets high on what he is doing and Castiel worships everything Dean is doing to his body. When Dean buries three fingers inside him, he knows it’s coming. His body responds in excitement and he lets outcries that drive Dean to get creative with his tongue. Castiel whines and calls his man until Dean is back behind him, cock aligning behind him—

“You’re so strong Cas, but you’re letting me do this—” Dean says, flicking his dripping cock over Castiel’s ass— “You fucking hot ass—”

“Dean!” Castiel says impatiently, raising his ass and Dean chuckles before the blunt shape of the tip of his cock pop inside the angel. Castiel drops his head. He feels Dean—lets his vessel feel it— when Dean drives in with that familiar burning sensation until he bottoms out.

Dean is breathing hard on his neck as he tries to catch his breath. His arms wrap around Castiel’s middle, fingers digging on Castiel’s skin, both steadying their legs.

“Cas… Cas… fuck… so tight…” Dean whispers, circling his hips, making Castiel’s eyeballs roll back to his head, “Tell me again… what you’d do if they try to stop us now?”

Castiel grumbles, his mind exploding from all the sensations. He imagines anyone pulling Dean away, imagine anyone taking Dean from him—remembers Dean’s bleeding lips—

“I’ll smash their heads on the wall,” Castiel whispers hoarse.

“Fuck,” Dean pulls in one swoop and thrusts back in. _“G-go on babe…”_

_“I’m going to smite their eyes white if they touch you again—”_

_“Y-yeah?”_

_“I’m going to destroy the walls if they try to take you from me again—!”_

_“Shit!”_ Dean moans and thrusts aggressively into Castiel, getting the angel pressing hard on the wall, body jerking hard in the rhythm of their bodies as Castiel narrates all the creative things he plans to do with anyone planning them harm. Dean gets off with it, Castiel takes him until Dean stops making any sound and earnestly fucks into him.

“Dean—” Castiel pants, a hand reaching to his own cock and he jerks with Dean’s movement, except Dean swats his hand away to take over. He drives into Castiel while he jerks him and the sensation all gets the angel crying until that building sensation trapped inside his body explodes with Dean’s masterful hand.

Castiel’s knees easily give away, but Dean holds his waist as the man chases his own orgasm and within seconds is burying his face over the angel’s neck again as he thrusts harder and stays buried when the tension breaks and he spills hot cum inside his angel. He groans in Castiel’s ear and the angel wants to kiss him but ends up biting his lower lips instead. The water trickles down their body but it’s no longer cold. When Dean flips Castiel again with his half-hard cock sliding out with a pop, it’s to catch Castiel’s lips into him softly. Castiel smiles at the way Dean needs him. They wash each other tenderly with lingering kisses and touches, Castiel loves Dean the most when the man tries to kneel between him again but he pulls him back up, shaking his head in disappointment.

“I’m not done,” Dean breathes on his mouth when they gaze at each other.

“We have work to do…” Castiel says, cupping Dean’s face in his hands, their faces still red and flush, bodies raw, “But I don’t want you to go back to your station…”

Dean sighs and kisses him again.

“Yeah, but you gotta wear your cuffs again, Cas… they’d be suspicious if you’re suddenly out…” they just embrace tenderly under the rain of the shower, both soaking and yet warm.

“How did you manage to get a key?”

“Got a little friendly with the warden at the seg,” Dean explains. Castiel pushes him with eyebrows rising up.

“When you said

Dean flushes. “It’s nothing bad… just let the guy… you know—”

“No, I don’t know,” Castiel growls, his hands sliding down Dean’s neck and holding him in place. He sees Dean swallow, sees the black of his pupils dilate uncertainly. Fear envelops the angel’s heart. “Dean…?”

“I uh… he didn’t touch me or anything… nothing like that—”

“Then what!?” Castiel’s heart race for what else can Dean offer that the people here won’t take!? Dean is very handsome, Castiel knows that. Even by human standard, Dean’s vessel has always been molded to be of the best quality, a present from heaven as it was supposed to be Michael’s vessel—and if anyone— anyone touches Dean without the hunter’s consent—Castiel will raise the real meaning of hell. He suddenly has the sudden impulse to raid the segregation and burn it to pieces. Dean tries to step back from him, but this time it’s Castiel who pins him on the wall with blue eyes flashing.

“Tell. _Now_.”

Dean is still red as a tomato which only makes the angel more nervous.

“I let him watch me masturbate, okay?”

Castiel blinks several times. He stares at Dean, gapes at Dean until the hunter is shifting from one foot to another looking uncomfortable.

“It’s a one-time deal, don’t worry… and he didn’t really come near me… just watching, okay?” Dean doesn’t look him in the eyes but the way his voice cracks gets Castiel closing the distance between them and hugging Dean.

Several minutes passed with only the zing sound of the shower tap. Dean doesn’t move nor did Castiel.

“Cas?”

Castiel embraces Dean closer.

“I’m sorry, Dean.” He chokes and he didn’t realize how his voice is heavy and laced with bitterness, “I should not have let you go there—I shouldn’t have—”

“Hey, it was nothing—”

“It’s not!” Castiel insists, pulling away from Dean and framing the hunter’s face again in his shaking hands. Dean reaches for his wrists, not saying anything, “Dean, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to help… I didn’t, I should have been there beside you… Dean, I—”

“Don’t beat yourself up to it, I chose it,” Dean says rather strongly, wrapping the angel’s body with his arms and rubs his palm to soothe Castiel, “Look at you—you’re crying! You’re making me cry too—idiot,”

“I don’t want you hurt,” Castiel breaks, embracing Dean tight, “Please… stop…”

“Cas—”

“Stop hurting yourself because of me, I’m worthless of it, Dean,” Castiel chokes out, his voice trembling, “Please… don’t do that again,”

There’s a pause where Dean sighs and kisses his forehead. After a while, Dean frames Castiel’s cheeks on his hands too and kisses his nose.

“I won’t, I promise,”

But Castiel can only think of the man who abused Dean even if its merely watching. He will pry the name of the guy from Dean no matter what happens, and this he tells Dean who shakes his head not planning to reveal the name when the bell rings.

“Saved by the bell,” Dean genuinely looks both disappointed and relieved.

“No,” Castiel tells him darkly, he leans to Dean and kisses him hot before whispering to the hunter’s ear, “You better be back in my arms after our job… I’m going to fuck you senseless until I am satisfied with erasing that memory from your head, and all you remember in this prison week is me, Dean. You’re mine.”

And if Dean’s face reddens, even more, it’s for Castiel’s satisfaction.

That night, Castiel’s bunk became useless again as he and Dean share one bed again, Castiel leading on top of Dean, leaving marks, huffing that night with Castiel taking the top, Dean bent beneath him. After an exchange of long hot kisses, Castiel takes Dean’s thighs and pulls it back to him, easily sinking deep inside Dean where he fucks him in abandon.

“You let someone watch you masturbate, Dean?” he growls in Dean’s ear and the man whimpers as he pulls his cock out, hard and slow, “I don’t like that. Tell me it won’t happen again.”

“It won’t, come on, fuck me, Cas!”

Castiel sighs and drives back into Dean. He lets it play this way, making Dean beg for him, making Dean admit that to let anyone see him with cheeks flush and legs spread is not okay and that Castiel won’t put up with it—he will destroy anyone who sees Dean like that.

“I’m the only one,” the angel says rather possessively as he painstakingly pulls and pushes inside the whimpering hunter, “Allowed to see you… like that… do you understand?”

“Y-yes!”

“Good boy,”

“C-Cas, move!”

Castiel obliges and thrusts forward until he can feel Dean’s body tremble. Castiel adjusts Dean’s hip so he can get more leverage when he takes Dean again until—

“Dean,” Castiel pants as he thrusts inside Dean, hitting his magic spot again and again. He feels both surprised and overwhelms, “Sam…”

“What!? S-stop saying my fucking brother’s name while you fuck me, idiot!”

“ _No—, he… he’s outside…”_

Dean doesn’t respond, his fingers tightly clutching the fabric of their beddings so Castiel continued fucking Dean hard until Dean is panting under him. His back is sprinkled with freckle that Castiel likes to kiss. He peppers Dean’s sweat skin with warm kisses, all the while sinking again and again in Dean’s hot ring until—

“Dean,” Castiel complains like there’s a noise in his ear he cannot get rid of, “Dean, Sam won’t stop praying now…”

“That damn idiot always interrupting… _fuck.”_

Dean grunts and clutches hard on the bed railing not saying anything for a moment until Castiel is panting and covering his body too. Castiel stops because he can’t do it with Sam chanting in his mind so he pulls away from Dean with a disappointed expression. They’re both breathing with Dean still hard as a rock. They fix their clothes, the hunter glaring at the wall with intent to murder his brother. Castiel rolls his eyes as he plants his unchained palm on the wall of their cell, escape is within reach now because Sam is there to save them but not Dean from his precious orgasm. Castiel sympathizes with him as he leads their shadows in the dark forest just beyond the walls, the barb wires are nothing to the angel. He guides Dean down, not letting go of the hunter’s hand in the dark until they can see the headlights of the impala, their entwined hands never let go. They both greet Sam who tells them to get in the impala quickly but neither took the shotgun.

With Dean sleeping with his head on Castiel’s arm, Sam drives. Sam doesn’t ask any question except throwing glances over the rearview mirror to the couple with a small smile on his lips. Castiel falls asleep with tight arms around Dean with the familiar rumble of the impala keeping them at peace. There was nothing to fear.

Sam finally comes to rescue them after all.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! And all beautiful arts are from vero! Check it out here!  
> https://verobatto-angelxhunter.tumblr.com/post/623675076441784320/this-is-one-of-my-artworks-for


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